Could You Repeat The Question
by HiBob
Summary: Malcolm is an American. Malcolm is going to Hogwarts. He is now in his fourth year. And after all this time, no one really likes him. Malcolm blames Dewey.
1. Introduction

**COULD YOU REPEAT THE QUESTION**

A discourse concerning Malcolm's fourth year as a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as written down by HiBob.

Our Story so far:

In Year One (Hogwarts in the Middle) Malcolm and Reese find themselves on board the Hogwarts express heading toward the school. Malcolm decides to sneak into the school and discovers to his dismay that he can't sneak out. As a result, he has to stay there as a student.

Reese discovers his match in Draco Malfoy, another boy who likes to annoy and harass people. He ends up being hexed and shipped home via UPS.

Despite ending up in Gryffindor, Malcolm and Draco develop a strong friendship, marred only by the fact that everyone in Malcolm's house hates everyone in Draco's house, and vice-versa.

Malcolm solves this problem by inviting Draco to his house for Christmas, as well as Ginny Weasley. The two fall for it, and for each other. They even pose for a photo, kissing under the mistletoe, for a popular weekly magazine.

Despite all of that, everyone has a good time until the end of the story, when Malcolm realizes that not only can he finally go home, he has to. The only one smiling is his mother.

In Year Two (Life is Unfair) Malcolm returns to Hogwarts having fully restored Ginny and Draco's love affair by having them both arrested. Then, for some strange reason, he's forced to go see a psychiatrist. He avoids that by trying out for the Quidditch team. Despite Quidditch being cancelled because of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Malcolm still makes the team but it is the wrong team. He ends up as Slytherin's seeker.

Malcolm wins the match for his team despite the fact that the match was rigged for his team to lose. He does this by becoming an animagus after falling off his broom from a great height. It should be noted that he manages to do this before hitting the ground, making it rather convenient.

Malcolm now is an owl and thus can deliver his own mail. He also goes to the hospital and entertains the children. His other choice is to go there and entertain the psychiatrist. Anyway, Everything is fine until Draco's brother dies. (The sickly one that was hidden away that no one even knew he had.) After that, Malcolm is kidnaped and taken to a cemetery to meet You-Know-Who. Had things happened differently with Potter, Malcolm would have been welcomed as the first student of the new Hogwarts, to be renamed Voldemort University. Instead he is merely inconvenient and is poisoned and left for dead. Malcolm nearly dies, only to find out upon his recovery that his parents have come to visit him. As a result, he wishes he were dead. Oh yeah, along the way, Malcolm falls in love but the girl dumps him, and the Malfoys give the family a house elf as a Christmas present.

In Year Three (Harry And Malcolm: Together Again) the author has trouble thinking up a good title and comes up with something totally useless. As it is, the plot goes something like this:

Dewey, who is ten, is eleven and goes to school with Malcolm. He's in Slytherin. Malcolm spends the summer with Dennis Creevey and the Krelboynes. (You know, that sounds like a rock group.) Draco Malfoy spends the summer as Malcolm.

Back at school, Malcolm is punished for being smart by not having any classes to go to. He turns this around by becoming a teacher and teaching his own classes. Dewey makes friends with the Giant Squid. The house elf turns human and is adopted by the family. And Narcissa Malfoy tries to adopt Dewey. Everyone regrets that this does not happen. Except for Draco and Lucius.

Hallowe'en comes and Malcolm ends up with the School Ogress's daughter as his date. It turns out that the daughter looks like her father and she already has a date. Malcolm ends up dating the girl who dumped him last year. Their picture makes the Daily Prophet.

Moving right along, Malcolm finds out he's the reason that Dewey fell back in time, his best friend EJ and EJ's girlfriend Amber turn out to be his great grandparents, which means his dad's really a squib with his memory of magic erased. On the other side of the family, his grandmother had an affair with Draco's grandfather, which means that Lois is a half-sister of Lucius. Lois's mother is also a witch, but that is a reference to her personality and not her magical ability.

As the story lumbers to a close, Malcolm loses his mind, his girlfriend finds it for him, and his great-grandmother shows him how to put it back in place. All in all, everyone had a good time . . . at one time or another.

As a side note, Reese got sent away to a boarding school, and the family lived next door to the Weasley's for the year while the house was being rebuilt. The official report was that it was a gas main explosion but the police still want to talk to Reese.

In Year Four (Could You Repeat The Question) Malcolm goes back to school after another eventful summer where nothing really happened. Everyone pretended they were someone else in hopes that their lives would be marginally better. That didn't work so everybody went back to school. Except Francis who got a job on a ranch.

Everybody kind of lumbered along, not really doing anything, until the end of the year when everything became confusing. At one point, a conversation goes like this: "Can we trust him? Does it matter?"

If you read, Harry Potter Book VI then you know there isn't really a happy ending. As a result, this story doesn't have an ending either. At least not until Book VII comes out.

* * *

Just a note to everyone. The first chapter of this story is being posted on October 31. As readers from the last story will remember, October 31 is New Year's Day in the ancient Celtic calendars (The feast of Samhain). And because they had a Lunar Calendar, the new year begins when the sun sets. Now you know why Hallowe'en parties got started.

* * *

DISCLAIMERS

Here is where I deny everything. And I do. There are quite a few references in the story and I want to include them all. JK Rowling and Warner Brothers own all the rights to HP characters and movies. Linwood Boomer and Fox Television Network have the rights to Malcolm and those characters. Terry Prachett has the rights to the Unseen University, which will not make an appearance in this story. I also make clear and obvious references to the movies, Casablanca and Citizen Kane. Also include in the story are characters borrowed from Neil Gaiman and Vertigo comics. (The specific references for this will appear in the bibliography.) Also, I need to give credit to an old show, Eerie, Indiana. The episode, Reality takes a Holiday, was where I stole the plot device I used for the storyline tangent that follows the Hallowe'en party (Somewhere around Chapter Twenty)

* * *

CHAPTER LIST

Chapter 01: Introduction

Chapter 02: Relative Experiences

Chapter 03: Home Alone . . . Almost

Chapter 04: House Party

Chapter 05: Adventures With Reese

Chapter 06: As Time Goes By

Chapter 07: The Good Son

Chapter 08: Louis Through The Looking Glass

Chapter 09: And What He Found There

Chapter 10: Draco's Adventures In Wonderland

Chapter 11: The Prodigal Owl

Chapter 12: Back To School

Chapter 13: King's Cross and the Hogwart's Express

Chapter 14: The Great Hall

Chapter 15: The First Day

Chapter 16: The School Year Progresses

Chapter 17: September Reminiscing

Chapter 18: School Night

Chapter 19: Hallowe'en

Chapter 20: The Feast

Chapter 21: Not Again

Chapter 22: Been There, Done That

Chapter 23: What Was And Will Be

Chapter 24: There and Back Again

Chapter 25: All Good Things

Chapter 26: The Holidays Are Coming

Chapter 27: The Happy Holidays

Chapter 28: Back At School

Chapter 29: Springtime

Chapter 30: The Way Of Things

Chapter 31: Emotions Abound

Chapter 32: Welcome to June

Chapter 33: Meeting Of The Minds

Chapter 34: Something Happens

Chapter 35: The End Justifies The Means

Chapter 36: Repercussions

Chapter 37: The Farewell

Chapter 38: Extra Stuff


	2. Relative Experiences

CHAPTER 2: RELATIVE EXPERIENCES

This story starts with a dream. It will come as no surprise to the reader that the dreamer is a fourteen-year-old boy named Malcolm. Malcolm is no ordinary boy. He is a genius, with an IQ listed at 165. He has a photographic memory. He also has the uncanny ability to perform the most complicated mathematical computations faster than the problem can be entered into a computer.

Malcolm is also a wizard. And he is no ordinary wizard either. He has already taught an accredited course at one of the most prestigious wizarding schools in the world. He is a registered animagus. He has been at the top of his class so far in every year. (Except for the year he took off to teach.) Malcolm also has the special gift that he can see a spell being performed and figure out, on his own, how it is being done.

It is obvious that everyone should be amazed at this boy's abilities, especially at such a young age. But Malcolm has one problem that prevents him from using his abilities to their utmost potential. He has no idea what he wants to do with his life.

Now it should be told that the previous statement is not completely true. There is one thing that Malcolm does want more than anything else. He wants to be normal. And therein lies the problem. Malcolm has absolutely no idea what it means to be normal. And that is part of the reason why he is having this dream.

It is a wistful dream. Fireplaces are burning merrily. Images of the past float through his mind. Then the dream becomes crystal clear. Malcolm is outside. It is bright and warm. Ron Weasley is there, looking at Malcolm. He is smiling. His hand is on Malcolm's shoulder and he says, quite clearly, "Life is good."

Malcolm wakes up in a cold sweat.

_That was scary. Being friends with Ron. I hate nightmares like that._

He looked up as the door to the bedroom suddenly opened and his mother walked in. She sat down on the bed next to him and felt his forehead, then whispered so as not to wake the others.

"Malcolm? I heard a strange noise."

"Just a bad dream, Mom. I'm okay. Really."

Lois looked at her son sternly. "It's all that candy you ate before going to bed. Tell me about it."

"It's stupid. I dreamt Ron Weasley was being really nice to me."

"And that scared you."

"He's never nice to me. Especially after all those tricks I pulled on him."

"You probably miss the old house and all that room. You dreamt about Ron because you know you can't go back there."

"That's the weird part, Mom. We were here, like in the backyard or something."

Lois smiled. "That makes it easier to explain. You're afraid about how things are going to be now that we're back, and you're picturing your worst fears."

Malcolm smiled, and stifled a laugh. "Thanks, Mom. Uh, why were you up?"

"An owl came by. It dropped off a two-page letter on what to do if we're attacked by dark wizards. I'll show it to you in the morning."

And morning came. Malcolm ate his breakfast, then walked out in the backyard to read the letter from the Ministry. He knew he would not be followed because Mom had told them to clean the yard today.

"What is this nonsense?"

_Seriously. I'm in the United States. Does the Ministry of Magic really expect me to follow these rules? I mean, what are the odds of Voldemort showing up on my doorstep?_

"Ahem. Malcolm."

The fourteen-year-old wizard froze as his face paled.

_Apparently they're pretty good._

Malcolm slowly turned around and gave a lopsided smile. "Oh, hi Mister Voldemort. Nice weather we're having."

Voldemort looked around Malcolm's backyard. The weeds were blooming everywhere. The flies were buzzing around the assorted pieces of trash thrown willy-nilly. To say the grass needed mowing would have been a gross understatement.

"Malcolm, I do not care about the weather, but something has come up that I felt best to discuss with you personally. It concerns your lineage."

Malcolm's face expressed surprise.

_I'm very good at that._

"Do you mean that Nott was telling the truth? We really are related?"

Voldemort smiled. "I apologize, Malcolm. I should have realized you were smart enough to see through that horrid little man's tissue of lies. He told your brother those things because he wanted you to think better of me."

Malcolm blushed at the compliment. "There's no need to apologize, Sir. And if that was Nott's intention, to get me to like you better, then he was wasting his time. Honestly, Sir, I couldn't think more highly of you even if it turned out that you were really my father."

_I hope he hasn't seen Star Wars or he'll see through that line in a minute._

"Thank you, Malcolm." Voldemort let out a condescending laugh. "If that ever turns out to be true, I'll even rename you, 'Luke'."

_Then again, maybe not._

"WOW! MALCOLM. IS THAT HIM?"

Malcolm sneered at the figure that came through the back door. "Yeah, Dewey. That's him. Lord Voldemort, this is my little brother, Dewey."

Dewey ran up to Voldemort and held out his hand. The Dark Lord, with a bemused look, shook the young boy's hand.

"It's great meeting you in person, Mister Voldemort, Sir because Cousin Draco's told me so much about you and the things you're trying to do and I think it's really great that you're trying to get rid of the riffraff and I'm also in Slytherin you know, so that's why Uncle Lucius showed me his dark mark, well he didn't exactly show me, he was taking a shower when I walked in to use his bathroom last Christmas, and he yelled at me, and I told him Draco was using my bathroom, and he threw me out anyway but I saw his tattoo and Mom says I can't get one until I'm old enough but I'd really like one anyway." Dewey paused for breath. "Do you have anything in red?"

Voldemort pulled the boy's hand off of him. "I'll look into it and get back to you." He turned to Malcolm. "Remember, Malcolm. If anyone asks . . ."

"I know. Regretfully, it was a lie."

"No. Just tell them it was a lie." He glared at Dewey's worshipful face. "There is no need for regret."

There was a loud crack as the Dark Lord disapparated.

"Are you okay?" Malcolm asked hurriedly.

"I think I wet myself."

"I don't think he noticed. Dewey? Why red?" Malcolm asked. "Why not blue?"

Dewey snickered. "That's a good idea. Then we could have pink for girls."

"Ahem."

Malcolm and Dewey both froze in abject fear.

"I told you boys to clean up this yard once and for all. Where's Reese?"

"Mom, he said he was getting the lawn mower."

Lois, holding her wand, pointed to the object next to the doorway. "This lawn mower?"

_It's time to think fast._

"Dewey," Malcolm said loudly with authority. "Start mowing the lawn and I'll go get Reese."

"MALCOLM, GET BACK HERE?" Lois called to no avail. She turned to Dewey and pointed her wand at him. "I'm not letting you go anywhere, mister, so don't even think about it."

"Mom. I promise not to tell anyone that you're not really a witch if you let me go to the park instead."

Lois waved him away, frowning as Dewey ran out of the yard. "Those boys are as bad as their father. HAL, THE LAWN NEEDS MOWING." A pause. "HAL." In the distance, she heard a car starting up. "I swear. He's just as bad as the boys."

She walked over to the hall closet and opened the door. With one hand she pushed the coats and jackets aside, revealing a brown-haired boy age seven. "Nob, I know a great game that we can play," Lois said sweetly. "How would you like to operate a muggle machine? Have you ever used a lawn mower?"

"Twenty dollars."

"Ten."

"Fifteen."

"Okay, but you have to rake the yard as well."

"Deal."

As Nob went out to mow the lawn, Lois smiled to herself. She would wait until he was done to let him know that the money will be put into his college fund.

* * *

Draco snarled as he looked at the dismal beach. The dementors had mucked up a perfectly good holiday. At least he hadn't decided to vacation in the west country. He heard about the giants. He walked back slowly to his rental and a smile crossed his face as he approached the hedge that blocked the view of the house next door.

The blond haired boy smiled as he stuck his head through the hedge. "Good Morning, Neighbor."

"Draco?" Ginny quickly looked around. "You can't come here. What if somebody sees you?"

"Then you have to sneak out. I'll see you at the beach. The usual spot."

Ginny shook her head. "Can't. You know what happened. Everyone's getting nervous. Things have already started to happen."

Draco frowned. "What do you mean?"

Ginny smirked. "You don't even know. I'd make any wager you ran directly to the beach from King's Cross Station and stayed there the entire time."

"And you'd win." Draco tried to slip through the hedge.

Ginny's smirking face became serious. "You need to read the papers. You'll see. The weather . . ."

"Yeah, it's been bad the last couple of days but it may clear up." He smiled devilishly. "It's always sunshine when you are there."

Ginny ignored his last remark. "No, Draco. It won't. The Dementors. They've fled Azkaban. They're all over the place. That's what's been causing all this mist."

Draco laughed. "It's settled, then. I'm off to visit relatives in the States. It should be safe there." He slipped back through the hedge, then poked his head back in. "Ginny, if you have any American friends, you might consider visiting them."

Ginny grabbed his head and gave Draco a kiss. "You always have such wonderful ideas."

After Draco left, Ginny sighed to herself and turned around to head back to the Burrow. She would have to think of a way she could visit Malcolm, even if only for a couple of days. Her best argument was that he was in America, and it was still safe there.

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy followed the house elf to the reception room to greet whomever it was that had arrived via the fireplace. She in turn was followed by a man who was also curious as to whom the guest would be. Narcissa was not surprised nor amused by the young man she met.

"Reese, you had better have a very good explanation for being here. Your timing is dreadful."

"Sorry, Aunt Narcissa. Say, Mister Weasley, does your wife know you're here?"

"Reese," Arthur said angrily, "I am here on business, and I don't like your attitude."

Reese smirked. "It's okay. I know how to keep a secret. I won't even mention it to Uncle Lucius when I write to him . . . if you play your cards right."

Arthur was livid. "Reese, you are an idiot. I am here because your Uncle was arrested. It's my job. I'm searching the entire house for anything that might be associated with Dark Magic."

Reese giggled. "Especially the bedrooms?"

Narcissa smiled with a wicked look in her eyes as she patted Arthur Weasley's arm. "Yes dear. Artie's doing a thorough job. Especially in the bedrooms."

Arthur's voice was like ice. "Be careful, Narcissa. What will your friends do if they think there is some kind of relationship between us. How will they react to your consorting with a 'blood traitor'?"

Narcissa's smile vanished. "You have made your point." She turned to Reese. "And why are you here."

Reese suddenly became nervous. "Is he a cop?"

"A what?" Narcissa frowned.

Arthur smiled. "Yes, Reese. I am a cop. And I'm searching the house for evidence of anything suspicious. Why are you here?"

"I'm, uh, looking for Draco. Um, He's not in jail, is he?"

Arthur continued to smile. "Not yet."

"Oh, um, okay. I'll just be going then."

Arthur stopped the boy from leaving. "First off, Reese. Why are you here? Or should I ask your mother."

"NO. Then she'll make me mow the lawn." His voice was full of fear and horror. "You don't know what it's like. There are things back there that have been growing for years."

"They're called trees," Arthur said offhandedly. "Go home, Reese. NOW."

Reese turned to the fire place, called out the name of his house, and stepped into the flames. As both Narcissa Malfoy and Arthur Weasley put out the fire, Arthur reminded Reese that he needed to use the floo powder first.

* * *

"Calm . . . down . . . Malcolm."

"I can't, Stevie. He was standing right behind me. I was rambling things off the top of my head. I almost . . ."

Malcolm started scratching himself on the chest again. It was a nervous habit he had developed over a year before. Stevie moved his wheelchair so he was in front of Malcolm and grabbed his hand. After a quick look around the park to see if anyone was watching, he then levitated his wheelchair until he could look Malcolm in the eyes.

"This . . . isn't like . . . you. You're . . . stronger . . . than that."

"I should be, but . . . he scares me. I was fine when I was talking to him but when he left, that's when the shock hit me."

"It was scary," Dewey said from behind, as Malcolm and Stevie jumped. "And no one's watching." Dewey looked carefully at his older brother. "Malcolm, are you okay?"

"I'm better. How are you?"

"I got away from Mom, but I'm still wet. Do you think he noticed?"

Malcolm smirked. "I doubt it. You were so obnoxious I think he just wanted to get away from you." A pause. Malcolm frowned. "Dewey, don't you think that's strange. He came personally to tell me that we weren't related."

"He's nuts," Dewey admitted. "And I'd let everyone know if I found out I wasn't related to you." A pause. Dewey frowned. "He could've just sent you an owl. It was really dangerous for him to come here."

"For him or for us?"

A popping noise was heard. The boys turned to see who it was. A man in a three-piece suit.

"Hi, Mister Winter."

"Hi, Mister Winter."

"Hi, Mister . . . Winter."

David Winter scowled at the three of them. "Do you realize, Malcolm? Stevie, lower your wheelchair. People might be watching. Do you know, Malcolm, I was thinking only five minutes ago that I was the luckiest man in the world. Not only am I the American Consul for Wizardry to the Court of Saint James, a very good friend had just informed me of a wonderful house that is available for rent, a house you are familiar with. I immediately came home to inform my wife when my former supervisor called me. Do any of you know why?"

Dewey raised his hand. "Illegal use of magic?"

"Very good, Dewey. And I was told that Malcolm was the smart one. Malcolm, do you want to tell me what particular bit of magic we're talking about?"

Malcolm frowned as though in concentration. "Apparation?"

"My, My," David said condescendingly, "that took some thought. Couldn't you think of a good enough excuse? Where did you apparate to? Stevie's house? Or directly to the park?"

_He doesn't know about Mom and her wand._

"It wasn't me, Sir. I'm not old enough and I never had lessons or anything. It was an adult." Malcolm smiled sincerely. "Don't you know about Mom's wand?"

"Come off it, Malcolm. I went to your house first. Your mother already told me that Dewey knows she's not a witch. And my guess is that he found out because you told him. Now, where did you apparate to?" He sniffed. "And what is that smell? It smells like . . ."

"I gotta go," Dewey said as he began to hurry away.

_Actually, he already went._

"Don't."

Dewey stopped and turned around, trying not to look at David Winter. David pointed his wand. "There. The air feels fresher already. I apologize, Malcolm. It is obvious that I wrongfully accused you. Dewey, where did you apparate to and how did you ever learn to do it. Malcolm taught you. Didn't he?"

"It wasn't me. Honestly."

"This . . . is stupid," Stevie shouted. "Just . . . tell him . . . or I . . . will."

David turned back to Malcolm. "Who?"

"It should be whom," Malcolm said nervously as he began to scratch his chest, where the old scars crisscrossed.

David nodded. "Is it someone WHOM we should not talk about." Malcolm nodded. "Someone you once thought was related to you?" Malcolm nodded again. "Can you tell me what he wanted?"

"He, um, he said we weren't related. And then he left."

"Curious man." David gave Malcolm a knowing smile. "I'll mention it in passing to a friend of mine. I wouldn't worry about it."

_That's really weird. I actually feel better now that he knows. Go figure._

Dewey tugged David's sleeve. "And thanks about, you know, my pants."

"I'm glad I could help. And I want to warn both of you. I know that everything is happening over there, but trouble can still find you, even if you don't go looking for it. Be careful."

"Um, Mister Winter."

David turned. "Yes, Malcolm?"

"I didn't say anything," Malcolm answered.

"I did," Malcolm's voice said from behind. David turned around to see Malcolm standing there. "I'm sorry to bother you but I just stopped by the house, and I ran into Nob. He likes me for some reason. And I was wondering . . ."

"Certainly, Draco. Finite Incantatum."

David waved his wand and Malcolm magically transformed back into Draco.

"Mister Winter, did you know that Aunt Lois isn't really a witch?"

David smiled. "Everyone knows that. Except Reese. I told her she can keep the wand if it helps keep him in line."

* * *

"Und you must be Francis," the fat bald old man with the mustache said as he shook his hand. "I am Otto und this in miene Frau, Gretchen. Welcome to Sleepy Hollow Ranch."

"Uh, thanks," Francis said. "Do you mind if I step out of the fireplace first? I think my wife's trying to follow me."

"Ya, sure. You come mit me und Gretchen vill wait for your wife. Won't you Liebsen?"

"Ya. You go mit Otto."

Francis thanked the frumpy looking woman and followed Otto through the lounge to the front door. "This is a really nice place you have here."

Otto beamed at the compliment. "Ven Gretchen und I retired, we bought dis place. It has been Vunderbar. I know you'll love it." He opened the door and waved Francis through. "Have you ever vorked on a ranch before?"

"This is the first time I've ever been on a ranch, except for one time when I was a kid."

Otto laughed. "Vell, you Americans always learn everything so quickly. You'll be a great Ranch Manager."

Francis stopped. "You're making me the Ranch MANAGER?"

"Ya. You see, Francis. You are der only American vorking on this ranch. It vould look better if you ver in charge. Und so you are."

Francis shook his head in disbelief, then looked up, then shook his head again. Otto was leading him to the horse corral.

"Und this is my pride and joy. Ve call her Peggy."

Francis nodded thoughtfully as he petted the horse just above the wing ridge. "It's short for Pegasus."

"Vhat do you mean? I named her after Gretchen. In America, she would be called Peggy. Dey are both nicknames for Margaret."

"Um, Otto. I think you should know. This horse is a boy."

"She is? How do you know?"

"Well, I looked."

Otto held up his hands to show Francis he should be quiet, then tiptoed back to the hotel to explain things to his wife. Francis looked at the horse which was looking back at him.

"How about we call you Pete until this whole thing is straightened out?"

The horse nodded. Then Francis looked up in surprise as the thought of giving the horse an apple suddenly popped into his head. He glared at the horse briefly.

"Sure. Why not. Where are they?"

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone for still being interested. Just a couple of comments in response to the reviews. Percy will not be making an appearance in this story. My apologies. Also, to Ouatic-7, the section of 'our story so far' is the first part of the story. If the story police disagree, I will argue the point. I love a good argument. But they did catch me doing that once. That's why the story, "Life is Unfair," begins with Chapter Two.

I should also apologize in advance. I may have taken some liberties with this story, but I wanted to have some fun.


	3. Home Alone Almost

A/N: Thanks to everyone who is reading. And to the reviewers, especially. As a note to Phoenix Skyborne, Yes and No. Big V always has his reasons but they're not always apparent, or logical. And thanks to Mandraco for reinforcing Malcolm's concept that maturity is overrated.

CHAPTER 3: HOME ALONE . . . ALMOST

David Winter smiled with amusement at Draco Malfoy. "And why are you here? I know you and your father do not see eye to eye, but surely your mother, in these trying times . . ."

"Mister Winter, you forget that my mother is married to my father. That should explain her to you. As for my being here, the weather in Britain is terrible this year and is expected to get worse. I had even rented a house within a healthy walk from the beach, but gave it up this morning."

David frowned. Draco had described the house that had suddenly become available. "You were renting Malcolm's old house? You're not old enough, even for muggles."

"According to my identification, I'm 23."

David sighed. "Courtesy of Malcolm, I assume."

"Made it myself," Draco said smugly.

"Ah, learning a trade. I'm proud of you, my boy. " David turned to Malcolm. "I may be by later to talk to your parents. You should warn them."

A popping noise was heard as the man disappeared.

"So, Draco, what happened with you and Ginny?" Malcolm asked as they began to walk to the street.

"That's . . . what I want . . . to know," Stevie added as he rolled along with them. "It's . . . because of . . . you two that . . . I learned . . . a new word . . . snog."

Draco laughed. "That won't happen much this year. Ginny's father received a promotion. He runs his own department now. And as a result, his security is that much tighter." Draco sighed. "No more trips to the beach. Not that the weather's all that great. What with all the dementors mucking it up."

Malcolm stopped in his tracks. "Dementors?"

"Yes. They've fled Azkaban and are wandering all over Great Britain. I read in the Daily Prophet that all that mist is because they're breeding."

Dewey gagged. "That's disgusting. And they're doing it out in the open."

"Right, Dewey," Malcolm said as he smacked his brother in the head. "They should go rent a motel room or something. Draco, that does sound disgusting."

"Why do you think I'm here?"

_Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. _

"We're heading over to see Lloyd and Belinda. Do you want to join us?"

"Only out of curiosity. I thought Belinda was 'grounded' for the summer?"

"Yeah, she has to do everything the normal way. No magic. No meals fixed by magic. No listening to the Wizarding Wireless. You know, like living at my house."

"You'll like it," Dewey added. "Belinda does a really good job of pretending she's happy."

"She'd . . . just . . . stuck up," Stevie said angrily.

Malcolm explained. "She won't let Stevie use his wheelchair around her. It's magically enhanced, and if her mom finds out . . . Her mom said NO magic."

"We're here," Dewey said as they approached a house with a lot of loud noise coming out of it.

"This can't be Belinda's house. Does Lloyd live here?"

"He lives down the street. This is Dabney's house. His mom's out of the country for . . . a while. It seems she forgot to get her Green Card renewed."

"Oh? Where is she originally from?"

"Here, but for some reason her records say she's from Argentina. It seems the INS picked her up a few months back and they deported her."

_You know, I should go back into the State Department files and correct that change I made. Yeah, I should._

"What is that noise?" Draco asked as they walked up to the front door.

"Music," Malcolm answered casually, and opened the door.

"MALCOLM"S HERE," The call went out at once as everyone in the living room turned to look at the newcomers, and wave to Malcolm.

Draco frowned. For some reason it bothered him that Malcolm was so popular.

"Malcolm," Belinda said as she ran up and hugged him. "This was a great idea, hanging out where I can't do any magic anyway. Thanks."

"You're welcome. Where's Lloyd?"

"Over there." She pointed out a group of Krelboynes who waved. "They're discussing who their new teacher might be for next year. I better get back. If I get caught using magic, I could be going to school with them. Stevie, want to join us?"

Belinda gave a cute wave as she and Stevie went to join the Krelboynes.

_That's why Lloyd and Belinda go well together. He doesn't understand how he should act around other people, and she has no idea how she acts around other people._

Malcolm pointed to the oldest person in the room, A young man of seventeen with scraggily hair and a wisp of a beard. "That's Johnny. Belinda's sister heard what happened and got him to come over every now and then to keep an eye on Dabney . . . since his mom's out of town."

Draco nodded. "And where is Dabney's father?

"Who knows," Malcolm replied as he led the way to the kitchen. "Dabney's mom is a control freak. For all I know, we could find his dad somewhere in the basement."

"This house has a basement?"

"No. Hey, Johnny, this is my cousin, Draco."

"Hey, Malcolm. Did you say Draco? That's a cool name. In some other language, Greek I think, it mean, 'DRAGON'. You want a beer, man?"

"Thank you, yes."

"Oh, cool. You're an English dude. Like your accent, man. Hey, Dewey. Run to the fridge and grab a couple of brewskies, okay."

Dewey mumbled something about house elves and walked off for the beers.

"Dude, there's a party tonight if you're interested?"

Draco's eyes lit up. "Where is the party?"

Dewey handed two cans of beer to Johnny who gave one to Draco. "Wet your whistle, man."

"Can I get one?" Malcolm asked.

"No way. Everybody knows about your mom."

"Thank you," Draco said as he popped the top. "And the party is where?"

"Here. Hey Malcolm, I worked it out. Did you know I'm livin' here now, takin' care of Dabney just like he was a little brother or somethin'?"

"Yeah, you told me last week when I got home."

"Oh, right. I always get you and Louis mixed up."

Draco frowned. "You know Louis Renault?"

"Yeah. He's a little jerk, but his dad, Greaser, is the best at fixin' up anything that moves. After I crashed my broom back in the winter, he had it flyin' just like it was brand new. Better than when I broke it. He does bikes, too. He IS the man to know. Greaser set me up with this job so that I could live here." Johnny gave them a stage whisper. "My 'rents threw me out, you know."

"But I'm confused. What kind of, um, job would permit you to live in someone else's house?"

Johnny smiled as he crushed his now empty beer can. "Want another, man. You're lookin' empty as well."

"No thanks," Draco replied handing over his old beer can. "It tasted funny, that. As though the butter turned."

Johnny signaled Malcolm to go to the refrigerator, then turned back to Draco. "This ain't butterbeer, it's barleybeer. And be careful, man, it's a lot stronger than you're used to."

Draco nodded thoughtfully as Johnny grabbed two beers from Malcolm and handed one to him.

_Should I tell him he's missing a beer and that Dewey's missing as well?_

"Thank you, and about this job."

Johnny grinned. "Home schooling."

Malcolm looked up in surprise. "I didn't hear about this."

"It's great. Greaser's got this friend in Social Services, big bike freak. We got Dabney listed as an abandoned wizardling in need of supervision. I see to it that he goes to his regular school and three nights a week I give him lessons in magic."

Malcolm's jaw dropped. "Dabney's learning magic? But Dabney's normal, I mean, he's a muggle."

Johnny shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't say he was any good, dude. And he knows, if anybody asks, to tell them he's a squib. An' don't you say anything either. Me and Dabney got a good thing going here. The State takes care of all the food, except the beer, and they pay me 500 a month to live here and watch the little guy. I give him a hundred as his cut."

_Naw. I shouldn't tell him about the beer. It'd be better if another one disappeared. Johnny won't notice, if it's an even number._

"I'll be back, guys," Malcolm said, as Johnny continued to explain his new job to Draco, and walked off to the kitchen.

"Malcolm?"

"Hi, Dabney. When's your mom due back?"

Dabney's eyes smouldered as he said through clenched teeth, "Her visa was denied."

"At least Herkabe's with her."

"Malcolm, I've got a problem."

_Great. Another Krelboyne problem._

"What is it?"

Dabney looked confused on how to start. "Maybe it would help if I showed you my bedroom."

"Fine," Malcolm said in an annoyed voice and followed him down the short hallway.

"That's my mother's room. We didn't do anything to that room at all. Just in case. Even though she's not here, I'm still scared of what Mom will do."

Malcolm frowned. "But Johnny said he was living here."

"He's sharing my room," Dabney admitted as he opened the bedroom door. He ushered Malcolm into the foyer and closed the door behind him as quickly as possible. He then led Malcolm into what appeared to be a combination den and library. The staircase curved gracefully up one wall ending at a balcony overhang at the second floor. It then continued on to the third floor where another balcony stood opposite the first one. The staircase then flowed onward and upward until it reached the fourth floor.

_Not bad. Especially since Dabney lives in a ranch house._

"Johnny said he studied how to do this," Dabney explained. "He used my bedroom as practice. It still freaks me out a little, but I'm getting used to it."

"And this is your problem?"

"No, well, yeah, part of it. What's a squib?"

"It's, uh, a normal kid who's parent can do magic."

"That's how Johnny's paying for all this."

"He told me. But he didn't tell me about . . ."

_This is amazing. That's a stained glass ceiling up there._

"I bet this room looks great during the afternoon."

Dabney began to cry. "Malcolm. I love all of this. The ceiling. The eight bedrooms. Even having to wear those stupid robes when I go shopping."

_When he goes shopping? There's a magic mall or something around here?_

"Then why are you crying?"

Dabney covered his tearing eyes with his hands.

"I don't want my mom to come back. If she does . . ."

_Yeah. It's like he has everything. If his mom comes back he'll have to go back to being her house elf. And that's an accurate analogy._

Malcolm smiled as he had a brilliant idea.

"Dabney, you're covered. I've figured it out."

"Already?" asked a disbelieving voice. "It's not illegal, is it?"

"No, it's obvious. What do you know about your Dad?"

"Nothing. Mom always said he was dead. Or should be."

Malcolm smiled broadly as he led Dabney to the leather couch.

_I really am a genius._

"You see, the government is paying Johnny to stay here, and they know he's a wizard because they're paying him in Galleons, Right."

"Yeah?"

"So that means it's being done by the Department of Magic, and they wouldn't do it if you weren't . . .

_Here goes the big lie. Let's just hope he buys it._

. . . if neither of your parents weren't magical. And since we know it's not your mom then it must be . . ."

"MY DAD? But he's dead?"

"And that's why Social Services stepped in. It's not your fault you can't do magic. You can blame your mom for that. But the wizarding world won't abandon you if you've got nowhere to go."

_Hey. That makes it two lies._

A strange look came into Dabney's eyes. "I should have realized. Thank you, Malcolm. I always knew there was something special about me." His face cast an eerie glow as he said with humble pride, "I'm a wizard who can't do any magic." He adjusted his glasses and looked up dry-eyed. "Can I show you around my room?"

"Sure. Say, how can Johnny afford all of this stuff? Like a real leather couch? It is real leather, isn't it?""

"You like it. Only 400 Galleons. With matching side chairs and coffee table, 850. For an additional cost, we can have everything done in dragon hide."

Malcolm's eyes lit up in recognition. "Your entire bedroom is a showcase."

Dabney laughed. "Everything's for sale. That's how Johnny got the place furnished. Everything in here IS for sale. That's why there's a party tonight. It's for customers." He waved Malcolm through the archway with little-boy glee. "Through here is the living room. If you notice, the Bay Window is set to Waikiki Beach. The controls can be set to automatically change to an alternate view because of inclement weather, time change or, in the case of certain beaches on the French Riviera, parental control lockouts."

"Can you get around the parental controls."

"Yeah, and you don't have to be a wizard. Stevie figured it out. Because of the time difference, the best hours are between 4 and 8 AM."

"So, where is your actual bedroom."

"On the fourth floor. Next to the indoor swimming pool."

* * *

"I wish I could stay here. Then, mother would never know where to look for me. Johnny, can I sleep on your couch."

"No need for that, dude. You can use one of the spare bedrooms upstairs."

"But this is a house only has one level."

Draco laughed as Johnny explained what he did.

" And I know it only has one floor. At least, when I came here it did. But, you know, I studied architecture in school but I never had a chance to use it. I mean I did. I had to make hiding places at home for my stuff. And I had to be good. My old man's an Auror, you know." Johnny leaned in to whisper. "You should know, man, if this party don't go well, I might want to crash on your couch."

* * *

Malcolm walked back down the stairs with Dabney. "This is a cool house. You are so lucky."

Dabney looked up. "Until my mom comes home."

"Who cares. After all, this is your room." Malcolm looked up at the stained glass ceiling four stories above. "Kind of. It's bigger than my whole house."

Dabney nodded his head and said with false bravado. "Yeah, it is my room."

The two boys left Dabney's bedroom and returned to the party already in progress

"Dabney, do you know my cousin Draco?"

"Hi."

"It's settled," Draco said as he shook hands. "I've rented a suite on the second floor for the modest sum of twenty Galleons a month."

"Uh, Draco, Dabney's been telling me about Johnny . . . and money."

"He told me. You Americans are truly amazing. He told me how quickly he built all of this, and how he managed to finance all of it. True, he's paying 390 Galleons a month for the next ten years, but that's because he did the work himself . . ."

Dabney was floored. "He's living on 10 Galleons a month? Why didn't he tell me?"

Draco smiled. "You might think he was a responsible person."

Johnny snorted. "Yeah. That would ruin my reputation."

Malcolm grinned. "Yeah, Dabney. Your mother was responsible for you for twelve years. I guess he thought you had enough."

_It's true. I think Dabney's even developing a backbone._

"You mean he's actually an honest guy? I promise, I won't complain about those lessons anymore. I'll even try really hard to learn magic. And I'll be the best darned salesman I can be.

"Salesman?" Draco asked.


	4. House Party

A/N: Wild Wolf Free 17 asked how confused would they be if they haven't read book six. I assure you. You will be no more confused than if you did read the book.

Also, Mandraco asked where I come up with this stuff. I'm inclined to say it's because I like to exercise my mental abilities every chance I get, but the doctor says it's probably because of my medication.

CHAPTER 4: HOUSE PARTY

Narcissa Malfoy fumed as Arthur Weasley and his men continued searching the manor. She was also agitated by the need to watch her least favorite nephew until he recovered from the severe burns he inflicted on himself. The only bright moment was when Reese berated Weasley for stealing all of her "stuff". As a result, when the Ministry agents left with the confiscated objects, they did not take Reese with them as well.

"I don't believe they did that," Reese said angrily.

"The law is on their side," Narcissa said philosophically.

"I'll tell Mrs, Weasley, Aunt Narcissa. She'll make sure he never does this again."

The woman couldn't help but smile at the useless gesture. "If only Draco had your attitude. Is he at your house by any chance?"

"I haven't seen him since we left school. He said he was going to the beach."

Narcissa sighed. "He said that last year as well. I never heard from him all summer until your father brought him home. That's when I found out he was at your house."

"He was at the beach last year. That's where we met him. He probably went back there."

A hopeful smile crossed Narcissa's lips. "Do you think you could find him again?"

Reese thought briefly. "Can I stay here if he doesn't come back?"

The hopeful smile became one of cunning. "Yes, Reese. That would be a wonderful idea. I'll discuss it with your mother." She noticed Reese's reaction. "I'll even explain that I asked you to come here . . . to help with the Weasels."

Reese smiled appreciatively.

* * *

Lois was incredulous at Narcissa Malfoy's remarks.

"You actually expect me to believe that Reese volunteered to help you? Or that you even asked Reese for help?"

"I'll be honest with you, Lois," Narcissa said from the fireplace. "I was hoping for anyone else, even Draco if he was there. But I was desperate. Weasley and his thugs were literally ransacking my house looking for anything and everything. Your family knows his family. I needed a witness. Fortunately, even Reese's presence was sufficient."

Lois arched an eyebrow. "Ransacking?"

Narcissa blushed, which was impressive considering her face appeared as flame. "After that stupidity of my husband, I expected a search, but orderly and thorough, not throwing everything about. After all, I wasn't even a suspect,"

Lois gave a knowing smile at the line she was receiving. "And why did Reese agree?"

"I bribed him. Why else would he agree to anything. But I will give you this. If you bribe him to do something, he does it and embellishes on it. I simply asked him to watch Weasley and his men as they searched the house and he even started to make a few choice remarks whenever they started to do something questionable. He was a surprise."

"And why isn't he back yet?"

Narcissa smiled. She knew she had won this round. "He forgot to use floo powder. His burns will be healed in another hour or so. You needn't worry."

Lois paused. Narcissa was describing Reese perfectly. "I'll want to talk to him first. HERE."

"Of course, dear. He needs to get a few things anyway. That is, if you let him stay for a few days. And Lois, if you see Draco, I do need to talk to him. It's important. What with everything that has been happening."

Lois agreed and the call ended. It nagged at her, though. Draco always said his mother didn't care, that she always treated him like he was a prize trophy. It seemed even if this were true, she was genuinely worried about that trophy being tarnished.

* * *

Malcolm was amused that Draco asked to stay at Dabney's house.

"Mom would make room for you. You know that. What did she say when you showed up."

"She wasn't there. At least I didn't see her. I heard a noise in your backyard and found Nob, um, 'mowing the lawn' I think he called it. And you can guess the rest. I decided to head for the park to find you. I think your mom saw me leaving because she called your name. And she did sound angry."

_That's great. Now she'll ground me for ditching work twice. And for the same job._

"I'll tell my mom about the party, then, but I won't mention you."

Draco smiled. "I appreciate that, cousin. And if you will excuse me, I do believe the swimming pool is waiting for me."

"I'll bring my trunks when I come back," Malcolm told him

"Shhh," Johnny said, even though no one was paying attention. "I didn't tell any of the kids about Dabney's room, yet. I want to keep it in one piece."

Malcolm nodded. "It's my secret."

Johnny looked at his watch. "'scuse me, guys." He drained his beer and, tossing the can near the trash bin.

"Listen, dudes and dudettes. It's four o'clock. Time to bug off, like, right away."

Belinda and Lloyd waved goodbye to Malcolm as they left by the front door. Several of the others left the same way while a half dozen others used the fireplace. One boy, Eraserhead, waved to another boy who was about to step into the fireplace.

"Eric, till tomorrow."

"Keep cool, Kyle," the other kid called back and then stepped into the green flames.

_Kyle? I never even knew Eraserhead had a real name._

"Johnny, those kids are witches and wizards?"

"Yeah. Friends of Belinda."

"But the Krelboynes and the others that left, they're not supposed to know about magic."

Johnny looked confused. "Yeah?"

"But those kids were using the fireplace while the other kids were still here."

"Yeah. Like, Belinda's the only one being punished. That's why she always has to leave first. Don't want to tempt her. You know."

Malcolm tried to control his exasperation. "But muggles aren't supposed to know about the wizarding world."

Johnny gave Malcolm a blank stare. "Yeah. I told them. They know."

Stevie interrupted as he rolled over. "We know . . . not to . . . tell."

_Stevie's in on this?_

"It's . . . simple, " Stevie explained. "Dabney . . . doesn't have . . . to live . . . with his mom."

"I know," Malcolm admitted, "that's a plus."

"We . . . have a . . . place . . . to hang out . . . without . . . our parents . . . being around."

Draco nodded. "He's making sense, Malcolm."

Stevie reached into his pocket and pulled out a wand. "We all carry . . . these . . . in case the . . . Aurors come . . . to check. If . . . you have . . . a wand . . . you . . . must be . . . a wizard."

"I get it," Malcolm said. "And if the cops show up, nobody knows about magic."

"And . . . no one . . . tells." Stevie smiled. "Why ruin . . . a good . . . thing."

_Hey, I can relate to that._

* * *

"It's real simple, Mom," Reese explained, "Because of what happened to Draco's dad, they want to know where he is all the time. So I'm gonna take his place."

"I don't care how. I want to know why?"

"Let's see? Private bedroom. A closet bigger than my current bedroom. Servants in case I want anything. They've even got season tickets to Puddlemere. That's a Quiditch team. A mom who doesn't yell all the time . . ."

"YOU MADE YOUR POINT," Lois yelled. "Now, how are you going to do this?"

"Nob," Reese said proudly.

"Nob?"

"Yeah. I'll get Malcolm in trouble for telling you this, but you remember when Nob turned Draco into Malcolm that time at dinner?"

"I do?"

"Well, I asked Nob how he did it and he said he didn't know." Reese smiled proudly. "And this is where Malcolm gets into trouble. Draco took some potion to make him look like Malcolm so Malcolm could run off somewhere. Nob stopped him from changing when the potion began to wear off."

"I know all about that," Lois said with a smile. "Malcolm isn't in trouble."

"Oh, Man," Reese said in disgust. "You already know everything."

"It does take the mystery out of life, but what can you do." Lois sighed with disgust. "What I want to know is how you can thing up such a devious plan when you can't even do your homework. So you're going to take the potion and have Nob keep you from changing when it wears off?"

Reese looked stunned. "You already knew my plan, too? No wonder I can't ever win."

"Yes, you can do it."

Reese looked even more stunned. "You're saying yes?"

Lois smiled. "Look at it from my point of view. I don't have to deal with a whiny kid who never listens . . ."

Reese scowled. "Why do I have to take Dewey with me? It's not fair."

"REESE. You don't have to take Dewey with you."

"Wow. Thanks, Mom. You never give in these easy."

Lois shook her head in dismay. She would never have an intelligent conversation with her son. "It's your lucky day."

"Cool. In that case . . ."

"Don't push it, mister. Take that potion and I'll get Nob."

Reese drank the vial of Polyjuice Potion he had brought back from Malfoy Manor and he immediately doubled over in pain. Smiling in satisfaction, Lois went to the backyard.

"NOB?" she called out when she didn't see anyone.

"HERE," Nob called out as he ran out of a tall patch of weeds. He hugged his mother gratefully as he tried to stop crying.

"What happened, honey?"

"There's big things back there," Nob explained though his sobs.

"They're called trees."

"But they were moving . . . and going 'HOOM,' like they were talking to each other."

Lois laughed lightly. "It was just the wind and your overactive imagination. I need to ask a favor from you."

"Is it another lawn?"

"Not this time. Remember when Draco was being Malcolm and you stopped him from becoming Not-Malcolm."

"But I don't know how I did that."

I know. But Reese is pretending to be Draco, and when he begins to change, I'd like you to try and keep him from becoming Not-Draco."

Nob smiled. "I can do that. All I have to do is not want him to become Reese again. It'll be easy."

* * *

Lois was yelling into the phone. "MALCOLM, WHERE ARE YOU? WHY DID YOU RUN OFF LIKE THAT."

"Mom, I was trying to find Reese, and I ran into Dabney. He needed my help and . . . I got involved."

"What kind of help?" The voice showed clear suspicion.

_Yeah. Mom suspects I'm up to something. And I am._

"Have you met his legal guardian? "

"Right. I bet there's nothing legal about him."

"Mom, he's an architect, and he's having a business meeting at the house. He wanted to know if me and Dabney could help with the presentation."

"Why can't Dabney help him on his own?"

"Are you kidding? You met Dabney. He arrested cellular mitosis as his project for the Krelboyne circus."

Lois was surprised. "Him? That Dabney. He couldn't find his way through an open door without help."

"Yeah. Johnny asked him if he could do it on his own. Dabney's still shaking. Not that he's answered, yet."

"Honey?" Hal whispered from behind. "Where are the kids?"

"Stop kissing my neck."

_Huh?_

"Mom?" Malcolm asked into the phone.

"Sure, have fun," Lois said as she hung up the phone. "Hal, I told you to stop kissing my neck."

"I can't," Hal said passionately. "You haven't turned around yet. Um, where are the kids."

"Hold on." Lois went to the boy's bedroom. "Dewey, do you know where Malcolm's friend, Dabney, lives?"

Dewey and Nob looked up. "Yeah?"

"Good, take Nob with you and tell him you're supposed to help with the presentation. He'll explain it to you." A slight pause. "Go."

As the boys quickly left, Lois returned to Hal. "The kids are gone."

"Great."

* * *

"It's your Aunt Bella," Narcissa whispered to the transformed Reese. Reese brushed his long blond hair from his pale face and smiled.

"Good Afternoon, Aunt Bellatrix. You look ravishing, as usual."

Bellatrix Lestrange sneered at Draco. "Don't patronize me, Draco. I would hate it if I had to hurt you."

Reese/Draco laughed politely as if he had been told a joke.

"Cissy, the Master wants you to come. And he wants you to bring Draco."

Narcissa Malfoy's features paled slightly. "We can come any time he wants to."

Bellatrix smiled. "That's good. Because he wants you to come now."

Narcissa smiled at Reese. "Draco, darling. I want you to take hold of my hand tightly and do not let go. We are going to see someone very important."

"Him?" Reese asked with ignorance and expectation.

"Exactly."

Reese grabbed her hand, and the three promptly apparated to a place known to only the most loyal followers.

* * *

Malcolm, wearing dress robes. opened the door when he heard the knock. He was surprised to see who was standing there.

"Dewey?"

"Mom told me and Nob to come watch you. What are you doing?"

"Do you see all those wizards and witches?"

Dewey looked into the living room, empty of furniture with only a fireplace blazing merrily. Almost two dozen figures in robes were standing around with drinks in their hands.

"Yeah."

"Johnny's going to give them a tour of Dabney's bedroom."

"That's stupid. How long is the tour going to take? Twenty seconds?"

"You better come in. We're about to start. You'll see. Johnny's a genius."

Dewey held his look of disbelief. "Malcolm, everyone knows if you're going to be a genius, you have to have a brain. It's a requirement."

"Well, Johnny has a brain. And yeah, he used it mostly to hid stuff from his folks, but he got really good at it. C'mon in. You'll see. It's about to start."

Dewey and Nob walked in while Malcolm stepped out of the house. Johnny was making small talk with one of the guests, who was obviously becoming impatient. Dabney was standing by the kitchen doorway.

Dabney was actually hiding behind the door. While he could easily accept one wizard who didn't do much except take him shopping for clothes at weird stores, Dabney was not prepared for two dozen of them coming into the house by jumping out of the fireplace or just popping into existence in the middle of his house. Then a tawny owl flew into the open window and everyone watch with expectation.

Dewey grinned as Johnny froze with a smile on his face that made him look sillier then he normally did. It was just like that deadhead to get stage fright.

"What's going on?" Nob asked in a whisper.

"Nothing," Dewey smirked. Then he noticed Dabney. The Krelboyne was horrified. He knew something that Dewey didn't. If Johnny goofed this presentation, the house would be lost. And worst, the authorities would know how Johnny got the money to do the work he did. Johnny would get free room and board for years, but Dabney . . . An orphanage? Foster home? With wizards?"

"What's that?" Dabney said suddenly as he stepped out of the kitchen and held up his arm. The wizards and witches stared in surprise at the pudgy boy in shorts and t-shirt as Malcolm, as an owl, landed on Dabney's arm.

"It's a message," Dabney said in mock surprise. "It says . . . um . . . Wishes come true. Your bedroom is ready for you."

Hearing his cue, Malcolm flew away, leaving Dabney standing alone. Dabney stood still, forgetting Johnny's script. He looked at Johnny then decided to forget him as well.

"I know I'm just a muggle boy and this is a muggle house but could all of you follow me to see what this message means."

"How cute," One of the witches said to the wizard next to her, then called out, "We'll follow, just to see what your game is."

Dabney led the group down the short hall and opened his bedroom door. He held the door open and ushered everyone into the foyer. The portraits on either side called out greetings as the guests marveled at the clever introduction. Last to enter were Malcolm and his brothers.

"Where's Johnny?" Dabney asked in a hurried whisper.

"He panicked," Malcolm whispered back. "I think he's going to split."

Dabney shrugged. "It's up to me then." In a flash, he smiled. "Malcolm, can you fly up to my room and get my robes? And don't let anyone see you leave."

_What's he up to? Dabney's supposed to be the one who's afraid of everything._

Dabney followed everyone into the den, looking around and marveling at everything as though it was his first time seeing all of this.

"This is wonderful. This is amazing. This must be magic." He turned to the crowd and spoke in his most innocent voice, which made him sound cutely pitiful. "Is this real? Is magic real?" He took their laughter for a yes. "Then I must be magic, too." He called up to the ceiling. "I'm not dressed for magic."

Everyone looked up as Malcolm came flying from the fourth floor balcony. He circled the air as he came down and everyone could see what he carried. In his claws were robes of as good a quality as most of the guests were wearing, and in his beak was a wand.

Dabney grabbed the robes with surprising skill and donned them quickly. He then took his wand and stuck it into his wand pocket. As the owl transformed, the crowd cheered the show.

"Thank you, Malcolm," Dabney said loudly and led a round of applause for his friend. Malcolm smiled, took a short bow, and stepped aside to watch a Dabney he had never known existed.

Dabney bowed to the crowd. "Welcome to the showcase of J&D Associates, Architecture and Home Furnishings. I am Dabney, and I will be your guide for this tour. Feel free to interrupt at anytime for questions. No contracts or purchases will be negotiated, however, until after the tour is completed."

A wizard called out. "The stained glass ceiling . . . "

" . . . can be any pattern you wish," Dabney answered easily. "We can even make it a changing pattern, abstracts, portraits, whatever. Your imagination is the only limitation." He paused. "And your purse."

Laughter answered his remark, and Dabney began his tour, pointing out prices, and always noting higher qualities for an additional albeit modest charge. After he led everyone up the staircase, Malcolm went back to the living room where Johnny was moaning to himself.

"Oh, man, oh, man, oh, man , oh, man . . ."

"Johnny?"

"Dude? Are they gone?"

"Naw. Dabney just took them up to the second floor."

Even Johnny was amazed. "But he's scared of his own shadow?"

_Yeah, but he even more scared of his mom and what she'd do if she came back and found out she didn't have a house._

"Right," Malcolm said snidely. "That's why you set this whole thing up. You knew he had it in him, and all he needed was a push. I'm smart enough to see what you did."

_I love lying to people._

Johnny nodded. 'Oh, uh, yeah. People like kids."

"And Dabney's cute when he tries to show off."

"Yeah, cute," Johnny said as he understood his life hadn't fallen apart after all. "I knew he had it in him all the time. Great Salesman." Johnny looked at Malcolm. "Thanks, man. What spell did you use?"

_Dang. He knew it was a lie._

Malcolm shrugged. "Let's watch the rest of the tour."

* * *

"Honey," Piama called from the kitchen window. "What's that noise."

"Pete's up on the roof again. Do we have any carrots? Or apples?"

"Stupid horse," Piama muttered as she went to get a couple of carrots out of the coldbox. "Why can't we have any normal problems."

* * *

Malcolm went to sleep that night feeling happy with himself. Somehow, he avoided getting into trouble for anything. He slept soundly dreaming about anything and everything. Then his dream seemed to become real again. He opened his eyes and everything was dark.

_Somebody closed all the curtains._

Malcolm felt his way across the floor until he stubbed his toe on a chair leg.

"OW."

A door could be heard opening, and a familiar voice called out, "Who's there."

There was a shuffling sound and the same voice called out, "Lumos."

As the tip of his wand lit up, Dabney said, "Oh. It's you, Malcolm."

Malcolm sat up in his bed in a cold sweat.

_What was that all about. It seemed so real._

He looked around, the pale moon lighting the bedroom faintly. Dewey and Nob were sound asleep. Reese's bed was empty. Mom had said he went to visit one of his friends for a few days. They were going to a Quidditch game.

_Lucky stiff._

Deciding to forget his bad dream, Malcolm turned over and went back to sleep.


	5. Adventures With Reese

A/N: There are exceptions to my standard rule of updating daily when I'm posting a story. Exception number one is when does not let me log in. Other exceptions will be note as they occur.

A note to Mandraco: I've always felt that Confusion and Malcolm go hand in hand. In this story, as in life, if you're not confused then you probably have no idea of what is really happening.

A poem for today: Please to remember, the Fifth of November. Gunpowder, Treason and Plot. I see no reason why Gunpowder Treason should ever be forgot.

CHAPTER 5: ADVENTURES WITH REESE

Reese would describe it later as though he was being squeezed through a keyhole, and no one had taken the key out of it first. He would also brag that he was the first person in his family to apparate, once he realized what happened.

Reese as Draco opened his eyes to see masked figures all around him, in a large room lit only by a fireplace. He looked on either side and noted that Mom and Aunt Bella were donning masks as well. The two women led him through the crowd until he was face to face with a pale man whose red eyes and slitted nose made him resemble a snake, specifically the snake that lay curled up in a striking position at the man's feet. Reese's first thought was, 'cool special effects.'

"Ah, Draco. How nice of you to come. I have a favor to ask of you." The Dark Lord waved his hand for the boy to follow and led the way to another room, as dark as the previous one. This one was lit by two wall sconces. As the door closed, Draco noted that it was not only the two of them. Mom and Aunt Bella were there as were two others. But Voldemort ignored them, looking at Draco with eyes that seemed to mesmerize the boy.

"Draco, your father was one of my more faithful followers before he was taken. I want to know if you have the same mettle in you that he had."

Reese/Draco drawled, "I have always been Father's favorite son. Even Malcolm says so."

Narcissa Malfoy winced beneath her mask at Reese's blunder, but Voldemort did not seem to notice.

"I see that you and your cousin share the same sense of humor. Even more gratifying is that you share your father's arrogance. In a lesser man this would not be considered an asset."

Reese smiled at the apparent compliment. "You wanted a favour?"

"Brusk and forward," the Dark Lord said appreciatively. "You could go far, Draco. But for that you would need to do two things for me, both of which are minor and well within your capabilities. Shall I explain them to you?"

"Sure." Draco smiled confidently.

"First, you must agree to be a Death Eater and call me 'Master' as all my other followers do."

"And the second?"

Voldemort smiled cruelly at the insolent youth. "A small task. Dumbledore has irked me for many years and I would be rid of him. But he has many protections about him in his castle at Hogwarts. All I wish is that you find a way to bring my servants into the school that they may rid me of this old man. And if you could manage to do this service yourself, you will be ranked first among my faithful servants and be beloved above all others." The smile became a sneer. "Should you fail me, Draco Malfoy, I will hold this as a betrayal. Your life and your family will be forfeit. Will you serve me?"

Reese panicked. This was not some fancy meeting. This was a living nightmare, and he was trapped in it.

Narcissa leaned forward and whispered. "Tell him yes, Draco."

'Draco?' Reese thought. 'Yes. That's right. I'm not . . . um . . . whoever that was. I'm Draco. I AM Draco Malfoy. And I know what Draco would do. I know what I will do.'

Hiding his fear behind a mask of dispassion, Draco answered. "It is a small thing, but I agree."

Voldemort's eyes blazed, whether with pleasure or anger.

"YOU AGREE . . ."

Draco swallowed hard as he tried to think quickly of how he had erred.

"I accept . . . Master."

"Then I accept you as my servant." The Dark Lord pointed his wand at Draco's arm. He smiled as the boy screamed.

* * *

In the morning, Draco awoke in his own bed. His arm felt sore but otherwise he was fine. He rose from his bed and set about to dress for the day. He paused at one point, before putting on a shirt, and looked in the mirror at the dark mark on his arm. He felt both trepidation and pride. He had a task before him. It would only be difficult but not impossible. He would be careful, though. If he revealed too much of his task, others might try to steal his glory. But he could ask discrete questions. His cousin, Malcolm, would be very helpful as long as too much was not revealed.

Malcolm had the proper attitude but he had never learned to be a follower. Draco smiled as he had an inspiration. He would help his cousin learn to find a cause, and to dedicate himself to it. The upcoming school year would be very interesting.

It never occurred to Draco to wonder why parts of the Manor was so unfamiliar to him. Nor did he think about why he could remember none of his classes or the teachers. He knew who he was. Nothing else was important.

Satisfied he was dressed properly. Draco left his room and went down to breakfast. Narcissa was waiting for him. They sat down together while the servant served their food. Narcissa waited until they were alone, then broached the subject that was strongly on her mind.

"Reese?"

"What of him. Mother," Draco said with a pained look. "Is he coming here for ANY reason?"

"No, dear," Narcissa said slowly. "For some reason he came to mind. I'm still not used to the idea that we have American cousins." Curiously, she tried another tactic. "I've heard you say many times that Malcolm is your best friend at the school. I was thinking of inviting him to spend a few weeks with us."

Narcissa watched carefully as Draco's face revealed a series of emotions. She knew Reese's feelings toward his brother, as a brother. Now she observed as the boy who was wearing her son's face changed his attitude to match that of her son. The boy's next sentence was spoken with a sincerity he would not have felt only moments before.

"That would be wonderful, Mother. With Father gone . . ." The boy, in true Draco style, left the rest unsaid.

Narcissa smiled warmly. "I will talk to your Aunt Lois this afternoon. Why don't you practice on your broom for a while. You want to be at your best for Quidditch when you return to Hogwarts.

Draco beamed with delight at the thought and agreed. After breakfast, the servant brought his broom, and Draco went outside. Narcissa followed to watch and was nor surprised to see Draco fumble at first. He laughed and told her he was 'rusty' and tried again. Then he surprised her by actually managing to fly with some little skill. He was clearly not as skilled as her son by any standard, but he was doing wonderfully for his first time on a broom.

Narcissa frowned. Reese was a squib by every standard. He had been examined, without his knowledge, and was found to have almost no ability. But now he was flying a broom and that should have been impossible. Unless the spell did more than make Reese look like Draco. She pondered the obvious answer. Reese did not look like Draco. This was stronger magic. Reese was now Draco. He could do anything Draco could do. The only thing he lacked was knowledge.

Reese, as Draco, was improving his flying skills faster than was possible. That proved Narcissa's suspicions. Draco knew how to fly. He knew how to move his body. His mind was remembering what his body was telling him. She would talk to Lois and invite Malcolm. Then she would make up an excuse and test her faux son on his skills in magic.

* * *

"I don't trust that woman," Lois said strongly.

"What's there that you don't trust?" Hal asked. "She's trying to get Reese to pretend to be Draco, until Draco shows up. She needs all the help she can get. And Malcolm's the smartest one around. He knows more about Draco than anyone."

Lois looked at Hal. "I suppose I should send Dewey and Nob as well."

Hal grabbed Lois's hand. "Think of all the time we would have alone."

"HAL! We're talking about the wife of the most obnoxious man I've ever met."

"But he's in jail, now. Look how much better your cousin Joey's kids are doing since he's been locked up."

Lois glared at her husband. "I need to talk to someone about this."

* * *

"Howdy," Francis said cheerfully, "Welcome to the Sleepy Hollow Ranch."

The young couple looked at each other and smiled. "It's our honeymoon, you know, " the man told him.

"Congratulations. I hope you enjoy your stay. If you need anything, just pick up the phone in your room . . . you do know about phones?"

"About what? Is that one of those muggle things?"

"Oh, how cute," the woman said. "And we tell it what we want? How convenient." She picked up the phone. "Take us to our room." A pause. "Nothing happened."

"No, Ma'am," Francis explained. "You do know that Sleepy Hollow specializes in giving our guest the experience of how muggles lived in the old west."

"Ahhh," the husband said and turned to his wife. "Darling, it's a muggle device. To communicate without magic."

"How delightful." The woman turned to Francis. "Just explain everything to our house elf, then. Where are our rooms."

Francis told them and watched as they apparated out of the reception area. All that remained was a scruffy looking house elf with long floppy ears who looked like a demented bloodhound on two legs.

"Okay. This is a phone."

The house elf looked up at Francis with vague comprehension, and Francis groaned. It was going to be another long day.

* * *

"Cannonball," Dewey cried as he jumped into the pool.

"Good one," Draco said admirably as Dewey surfaced. "Malcolm, how high?"

"The splash reached seven feet three inches."

"Dang," Dewey said. He was still a foot short from beating Draco's record.

Draco, sitting on the side of the pool with his feet in the water, smiled as Malcolm climbed onto the diving board. "Malcolm. Don't forget. If you change into an owl again just to get the extra height you're disqualified."

Malcolm laughed as he shouted back. "It was a great splash." He took a running start and jumped off the board shouting, "Cannonball," as he curled up into a ball.

"Eight feet, one inch," Draco announced as Malcolm surfaced. "I'm still the winner. Dabney, do you want to try?"

Dabney sitting in the shallow end, shook his head no.

"It's my turn then," Johnny said. He jumped and surfaced to hear, "Eight feet, five inches." He was the new cannonball champ by two inches.

"Malcolm?"

Everyone turned to look at the seven year old boy who had walked in, a junior version of his brother.

"Nob, what happened? I thought you were moving the lawn?"

"Naw, I paid this kid Ten bucks to do it for me." Nob walked over to his brother. "Mom and Dad were talking about Reese. It sounded bad. I thought I should tell you."

"What happened."

Nob frowned, then looked at the pool. "Can I get wet first?"

"Do you bring your trunks this time?"

"Yeah."

_Last time he didn't. The girls thought he was cute, though._

"C'mon in."

* * *

Two hours later, Nob finally had a chance to tell his story as everyone sat around in the den. As much as he knew. How the Aurors wanted to talk to Draco. How he had changed Reese into Draco. And how Draco's mom wanted Malcolm to come and help Reese learn how to act like Draco.

It was Draco who broke the silence. "Malcolm, I need to tell you something." He looked around at the five people watching him. "Privately."

"Is it about the, um, you know, oath."

Dabney looked surprised. "That was true? You took a wizard oath and had to participate in the Academic Olympics?"

"A wizard's oath?" Johnny said appreciatively. "Who was your bonder?"

"My what?"

"You know, man. The dude that holds his wand out as you make the oath."

"Nobody held out a wand?"

"Oh, you did it yourself? Cool?"

Dabney was amazed. "Malcolm. Did Draco make an oath to cover for you or something."

Draco stared. "How did you figure that out?"

Dabney smirked. "I was the number one Krelboyne." Then he frowned. "Until Malcolm showed up."

Draco nodded. The same intelligence but without the personality.

Malcolm shrugged his shoulders. "Now that Dabney figured it out, it doesn't have to be private."

"We're better as a group," Dewey assured Draco. "When we work together."

Draco shrugged. "Fine. It's about when Nob turned me into Malcolm. I actually became Malcolm, at least the Malcolm I thought he was. For a while I even forgot who I was."

_This could be bad. With Reese's brain, he's probably already convinced he's always been Draco._

"Malcolm," Dewey said with a hint of fear. "What does Reese think Draco is like?"

"I was just thinking about that? Draco?"

"Well . . ." Draco paused, then began to smile. "Mother must know what happened, otherwise she wouldn't have asked for you. I don't think it matters. Mother will have the son she always wanted. A son who will always listen to her."

Everyone snorted.

Dewey asked it first. "Do you really believe your mother can get Reese to listen to her?"

"It's a given. All Mother has to do is tell Reese that I always listen to her advice. Reese will do whatever he thinks I would do." Draco stretched out on the couch, putting his feet on the coffee table. "I think all of us are going to have a wonderful summer. Even Reese."

"Yeah," Malcolm answered with a laugh. "Your Mom will tell him he's having a great time."

* * *

"Thank you for coming, Malcolm," Narcissa said warmly as the boy stepped out of the fireplace. "Draco's in the front yard, flying his broom."

Malcolm did a double take. "Flying? Actually flying?"

"Actually flying. And I told him he must have lost his wand, so we went to get him another one. I've been running him through his spells to make sure his new wand works properly."

"Reese can do magic."

Narcissa gave Malcolm an amused smile. "Of course not. Reese, thankfully, is a squib. Draco, however, is an accomplished young wizard. It is a joy to have him around the house for the summer."

Malcolm nodded. "So you know all about Reese?"

"That he is convinced he is Draco? Yes. But I need to ask you a question. The spell that was put on him. How long will it last."

"Until you take it off."

"Good. Until I can find Draco, I will need Reese. And he has proven very useful already."

"The Aurors?"

"Um, yes. No one can tell the difference. If I didn't know what had happened, I would believe he was Draco. And that is why I need your help, Malcolm It's only a matter of time before the Ministry decides to interview my son. I need my son to know as much about Hogwarts as possible. He loves to review his school books, after I told him he did, but they won't ask him about potions. He needs to know the more personal things. Things that you, as his close friend, can tell him. Who he likes and dislikes. Why he feels that way. Personal things that have happened to him."

Malcolm frowned. "Is it really that important?"

Narcissa frowned as well. "I can't find Draco. He's gone to some beach for the summer. And I can't risk anyone realizing that Reese is not the real Draco. It will cause me serious problems. And your family as well. Important people will want to know why your brother was impersonating my son."

_She's right. If anyone finds out about Reese, we're all in big trouble. I'd better tell her where Draco is._

"Aunt Narcissa . . ."

_On the other hand, that means that Reese will come back home. We're actually acting like a family since he's been gone. Dewey and me going swimming together. And we're not even ditching Nob as much. We even found some kid dumb enough to mow the backyard._

". . . I'd be more than happy to talk over old times with my good friend, Draco."

* * *

It was a week later that Draco was eying Malcolm carefully. They sat on the lawn chairs at the far end of the pool. Everyone else was swimming and ignoring the two of them.

"You told him everything?"

"Yeah. I mean no. I didn't tell him about Ginny. Or Basil. Or fake ID's, but he knows about that already. I just told him all the stories about Slytherin. You know. How you planned to release those Dementors. All those tricks you played on Potter. All those things he did to you. That thing about the Hippogriph. How you and Crabbe and Goyle fought Potter on the train, twice, and lost both times." Draco frowned. "Sorry, he had to know. Reese actually thinks Harry's a nice guy, just a little weird."

"Go on," Draco said icily.

"And, you know, stories about Hogwarts. Like the time Nearly Headless Nick had a Deathday party on Halloween. What you told me about the troll getting loose in the castle. The time Montague got caught in that cabinet and couldn't get out. Your dad and that diary. When Dennis Creevey jumped into the lake and the Giant Squid tossed him back into the boat . . ."

"He actually jumped? I thought he was smarter than that. And nicer, too. After all, he and his brother actually improved on those buttons I made."

_I remember that. The buttons said, "Potter stinks." Dennis and Colin got them to say, "Potter really stinks."_

Malcolm paused. "Draco. It took me a couple of days, what with your Mom there and all, but Reese really does think he's you. 100 percent."

"Already?" Draco nodded thoughtfully. "It must be his lack of intelligence. And I am a much nicer person than he is."

Malcolm didn't even make any comment about Draco's remark that he was nicer than Reese. The previous remark had startled him.

"What do you mean by "Already"?

Draco smiled at the memory of talking with his Aunt about who he was. "It's Nob's spell, how ever he does it. As I told you, when he turned me into you, he made me become you. I found myself doing things I thought you would do, that I knew you would do. It seems that it gave me your brain as well. Not the memories, but the pattern was there. If I did something wrong, I could feel it was wrong. But because I was you, and no one was there to remind me of who I was, I began to believe I was you. It was only when you called the house and I answered the phone that I remembered who I was."

"But that took weeks? Reese has been you for only a couple of . . .." Malcolm laughed as he figured it out. Draco laughed when he was told. As Draco, Reese had everything he ever wanted. Why would he want to be anyone else.

"Reese can do magic," Malcolm said tentatively.

Draco smiled. "And I'd wager he flies very well, too."

_Then that means that when he was me . . ._

"Draco?"

"Yes, Malcolm, when I was you I was very, very smart."

"Cool."

* * *

Reese remembered everything that Malcolm had told him. He even embellished his memories so that Draco was even better in them than in real life. Malcolm was a good friend to have, a lucky friend to have. How many other pure blood wizards have ever been raised as muggles. He could be useful.

* * *

Malcolm had a dream that night. It was another of those dreams that seemed extremely real. Somehow, he knew he was in the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall was standing in front of him.

"Under the circumstances, Malcolm, I must expel you from Hogwarts."

"But . . ." Malcolm said, and that was as far as he got.

"No buts. That is the way it has to be."

Malcolm turned around and he woke up.


	6. As Time Goes By

A/N: I apologize to Zook and all others who are taking valuable time away from their studies to read this story. But I don't want you to worry about it. I was the same way when I was younger, but I still managed to go out in the world and get a steady job where I am considered a reliable and trusted employee. And you can have fries with that.

To answer Mandraco's question, I would say chapter 13. Of course, I've already read the story. Either that or chapter 21. It's hard for me to say. I get confused very easily.

CHAPTER 6: AS TIME GOES BY

"Mum," Ginny called out. "There's an owl coming."

Molly Weasley looked out the window to where she was pointing. "That owl looks familiar. Where have I seen it before?"

Ginny grinned. "The Daily Prophet?"

Molly's grin matched her daughter's. "I guess he thinks it's safer to deliver his own mail."

Malcolm flew down and landed on the doorstep. He waved at Ginny through the kitchen window and showed her the letter he was holding but Molly pushed her daughter out of the way.

"Malcolm, I'm sorry, but I have to make sure it's you before I let you in."

"That's OK, Mrs. Weasley. If Ron's home I think I'd rather stay out here."

The door opened and Molly grabbed her visitor in a tight hug.

_I . . . can't . . . breath._

"It is you, Malcolm. It's so good to see you again. How is America now that you're back in your old house?"

_I . . . still . . . can't . . . breath._

"Come in. Come in," Molly said as she released Malcolm. She then dragged him into the house. "Can I get you something to eat? To drink? Would you like to come into the kitchen?"

"Malcolm?" Ginny asked, "Did you fly all the way here?"

"Of course he didn't," Molly answered. "If I know our Malcolm he flew here all the way from next door."

Malcolm nodded. "Mister Winter thought it might be safer. That's also why I'm here. I've got a letter for you," Malcolm said as he caught his breath. "My mom invited Ginny to visit us for a couple of weeks."

_I told Mom that Draco won't go anywhere near the Weasleys after everything that's happened, but we might get him to show up if he finds out that Ginny's at our place._

"My mom thinks it might be fun for her. She's been reading all those stories, you know."

Molly was genuinely pleased. "That is generous of Lois, but I think not. What with everything that's been going on."

Malcolm frowned. "But that's all over here. It's not happening in the States."

Molly wanted to say something but she looked as if she didn't know how. That was when Ginny grabbed Malcolm's arm. "I'll explain it, Mum."

Malcolm said goodbye to a relieved Mrs. Weasley as Ginny led him up the stairs to her bedroom. They reached the top of the stairs when someone called out to him.

"Bonjour, Malcolm. What a surprise eet iz to see you 'ere." Fleur Delacour grabbed Malcolm into a hug.

"Fleur? You're here?" Malcolm's heart began to beat faster. "Did anyone else come with you. I mean . . ."

Fleur laughed. "She iz at home, thinking of you."

Malcolm blushed. "Do you think you could, I mean, if you want to, I mean, um, if, um, you need me to deliver a letter for you, It's kinda on my way home, you know, sort of, not too far out of the way." He paused briefly. "I've been learning French."

Fleur gave him a peck on the check and whispered in his ear. "Zat iz a wonderful idea. I will tell "er of ze wonderful boy I met, and that I am sending 'er a surprise. Give me one 'our."

"That's great. Thanks," Malcolm said as Fleur let go of him and Ginny yanked him into her room. "Yeah. Um, Ginny. Why are you scowling?"

"Phlegm!"

"What? I've got a booger on my lip or something."

"NO, MALCOLM. HER."

"I didn't notice. Should we tell her?"

_What's going on? Now Ginny's really mad._

"She's Phlegm. She's obnoxious. She's rude. She's horrible."

"Then why is she here?"

"She's engaged to Bill?"

"That's great. Um, no, I take that back. Why would Bill want to marry someone who's obnoxious and rude and horrible. And she's French, too. And she has the same color eyes as Gabrielle . . ."

_I think it's time to shut up._

"It's her personality," Malcolm said with authority, then immediately changed the subject. "So, why can't you come? Are things really that bad here?"

Ginny frowned. "My dad's been promoted."

"Yeah, Draco told me. Shouldn't that make things easier?"

Ginny's frown flickered briefly into a smile. "Well, Dad and his men raided Malfoy Manor. I don't know the whole story, but Reese was there."

"I know. Aunt Narcissa told me some of the things he said." Malcolm frowned. "I guess your dad didn't appreciate it."

"Good guess. Dad won't ever let me go because of Reese."

"That's okay. Reese isn't there. He's staying with the Malfoys."

"Why would he be doing that?"

Malcolm smiled. "I'll let Draco explain it when you come. Oh, and don't let my mom know about Draco."

"Why not?"

"He's hiding from his mom. And my mom's trying to help find him. He's staying nearby with a friend. Do you remember Dabney?"

"Well. I'll talk it over with Mum, but don't get your hopes up. Dumbledore told Dad he's bringing Harry around this weekend to stay with us. And Hermione's coming too. I'll be honest with you, Malcolm. I think Mum wants me around because she doesn't want to be the only Weasley woman here because of you know who."

"Fleur?"

"Of course. And with Hermione coming . . . I can't leave her alone with them."

Malcolm grinned mischievously. "You could bring her along."

Ginny snorted. "Oh, Hermione. Can you keep a secret. I'm taking you along so that I can snog Draco Malfoy."

"I'll bet she'd come along just to see if you're telling the truth."

* * *

Malcolm left the Burrow in high spirits. Molly Weasley bid him goodbye in full ignorance of his true destination. Fleur gave him a hug and another kiss, making Molly and Ginny frown at her, but neither she nor Malcolm noticed.

All the goodbyes said, Malcolm took to wing and flew off into the sunset, which happened to be the direction of his old house. Once past the hedges, he changed course and flew as quickly as he could to a small wizarding village surprisingly close to Paris. With the letter clutched firmly in his claws, the tawny owl headed straight for the window where he sensed Gabrielle, but as he came close, he realized it was the bathroom.

_This'll be a great surprise. I don't know why I didn't think of it before. That's the room she's in . . . Un, she getting out of her bath. I shouldn't look._

In a supreme act of stupidity, Malcolm closed his eyes.

* * *

Gabrielle Delacour finished her bath. She stood up and had just wrapped a towel around herself when an owl flew in though the open window and crashed into the opposite wall.

"Gabrielle? Are you hurt" Her mother called out, in French of course.

"No, Mother. It was an owl. It . . . forgot to stop."

Gabrielle opened the door to let her mother in and they both examined the owl. It was unconscious but otherwise did not seem to be hurt.

"Mother, the letter! It is from Fleur." Gabrielle opened the envelope and began to giggle. "She saw Malcolm at the Weasleys, and they're sending me a present as a surprise." Gabrielle looked at the owl, which was shaking it's head as it tried to stand up. "Mother, the owl looks familiar."

Madame Delacour smiled as she pulled out her wand. "Accio." A framed photograph from a newspaper flew into the bathroom and into her grasp. "Does the owl look like this?"

Gabrielle looked at the picture from the Daily Prophet, of Malcolm transforming into an owl. "It is the same color. But it is bigger."

She smiled in delight. "Are you from Malcolm? She asked the owl as it roused itself. The owl hooted.

"Are you for me?" The owl flew up and gently landed on her arm.

"How delightful," her mother said. "An owl who will always remind you of someone special. Here, I will take him and get him a cage and some food while you finish with your bath. Then you can write a letter thanking him."

"Mother. Why did the owl hit the wall? There might be something wrong with it."

"We'll watch him for a few days," came the reassuring answer. "But I think the reason is simple. It was flying at night and flew suddenly into a brightly lit room. I do not think he will make the same mistake twice. He seems a smart bird."

At the compliment, the owl gently nipped at Gabrielle's ear, causing her to giggle again.

"Silly bird. I like you, as well. You are Malcolm's other face. I'll call you Janus."

* * *

Dewey smiled when David Winter came out of the fireplace with Ginny Weasley.

David frowned. "What did you do? And where is Malcolm?"

Dewey frowned. "I thought he was coming back with you."

"Did you now? Where's your mother?"

"Lucky-Aid. She'll be at work for another hour."

"And she left you on your own?"

"Nob's here."

David gave a smile of mock appreciation. "You're being watched by the junior member of the Malcolm fan club. Where did Reese run off too?"

"He's visiting Draco at the Malfoy's."

David turned to Ginny in time to see her hide a frown. He turned back to Dewey. "I happen to know that Reese is not at Malfoy Manor. Nor is Draco. And now Malcolm has disappeared. Dewey, this is serious. You are going to tell me everything. Right now. Don't bother looking at Miss Weasley for help. She has already told me what she knows. She is very concerned about your brother."

An honest look of surprise crossed Dewey's face before he could hide it. "That means if we get rid of Nob, I've got my own room."

"Where is Draco Malfoy?"

Dewey looked up with an air of defeat. "Dabney's house."

"Then get Nob. We're going to visit Dabney and his mother."

"Uh, Mister Winter. Dabney's Mom is still in Argentina."

"Whatever for?"

"Her visa expired and she couldn't get a green card."

"Then who is watching over Dab. . . Don't answer that."

* * *

"Ginny!" Draco looked up from the couch. Seconds later he had swept her into his arms.

"How romantic," David Winter uttered as he stepped into the den of Dabney's bedroom. "I thought Malcolm was the only one who was able to be in two places at once."

Draco paused in the middle of his kiss and looked at the gentleman in the navy blue business suit. "Hi, Mister Winter. I can explain."

David sighed heavily. "I know Draco. You hate your parents and ran away for the summer. You had Malcolm set up this ruse so you and your girlfriend could have some playtime together. And where did you have Malcolm go when he left the Weasley home?"

Draco looked at Ginny who nodded her head. "He was supposed to let me know what happened. Ginny?"

Tears welled up in her eyes. "He told me he hoped to see me soon. That's all I know. When Mum said I could come for a couple of days, Dad took me over to see Mister Winter. That's when Mister Winter asked us where Malcolm was."

Draco smiled. "Well, England is close to France. Maybe he got the idea to visit HIS girlfriend."

David nodded. "I checked. As Fleur Delacour is a guest at the Weasley's, it was an obvious assumption.. The Delacours received a letter and a gift from Malcolm, but Malcolm himself did not show up."

"What kind of gift?" Dewey asked as he and Nob walked in.

"I didn't ask," David said without humor. "I was more interested in what happened to Malcolm. I'm trying to find your brother."

Everyone paused as voices could be heard from the house proper.

"Look, Johnny. It's just for week."

"Dude. I can do a couple of days. No problem. But I got people coming in all the time to look around."

"But it's a hot property and you owe my dad."

Everyone turned in surprise as Johnny and Malcolm walked into the room.

"Um," Malcolm said as he noticed everyone. "It's, um, real hot. Like, everyone wants it. Not like what you're thinking." He smiled at Ginny as he smoothed his greased back hair and straightened his leather jacket.. "Hey, Babe."

Ginny smirked. "Hey, Louis. You remember Draco?"

"Oh, yeah. You told me if I hit on your girl again, you'd break my . . . Yeah, I remember. Hey."

Draco grinned. "Hello, Louis."

Dewey grinned. "This is great. I just got an idea. Nob?."

"STOP."

Everyone turned to look at the only adult in the room. He was glaring at Johnny. "I think I've just figured everything out. You do remember me, young man."

"Oh. Yeah. Hi, Mister Winter. I haven't seen you since your promotion."

"Promotion?" Draco asked.

David smiled without humor. "Johnny was in my charge before they gave me Malcolm."

"Ahhh," Draco mused, "your promotion."

David turned back to Johnny. "And you've used the time to grow taller and hairier. Congratulations. At least you've done something with your life. Would I be wrong to guess that you are here because of Malcolm?"

"No, Sir. This is legit. I'm house sittin' this kid Dabney and I got a whatchamacallit to teach magic to the poor little orphan."

"Johnny, I spent some time with Malcolm and his friends last summer. I know that Dabney is a muggle."

"I gotta go," Louis said, as he turned quickly around and headed for the door.

"MISTER RENAULT. Wouldn't you rather stay or would you rather I get a search warrant for the premises of Henry Renault."

Louis turned around, his face pale. "I'll stay."

David smiled without humor. "A wonderful idea. Why don't we all sit down and discuss certain matters."

Draco and Ginny sat next to each other on the couch. Johnny and Louis took chairs in front of the aquarium while Dewey sat on the floor. Nob chose a recliner chair."

"And where is Dabney?" David asked.

"With friends," Johnny said quickly. "Honest. He does have friends. Kinda."

"Ahh, and who built this wonderful house?"

"I did. Really, Mister Winter."

David laughed. "It's one of your hidey-holes? Only on a grand scale. I am impressed." He turned serious. "And how did you pay for all of this? I know defrauding Child Services couldn't bring in enough cash for all this furniture."

"It all on consignment. J&D Architecture. Like I said. I'm legit."

"Except for Dabney." Having made his point, he turned to Louis. "And what is this hot item your father has? Tell me and I'll tell you where he can turn in 'found' property."

Louis looked scared. "I can't do that. He'll kill me."

"Unless I am mistaken about your father's reputation, he will not kill you. He will probably understand."

"Not my Dad, you jerk." Louis pulled back as he realized what he said. "Look. I'm sorry. Haul me in, or whatever. This is all too big for me."

"Then tell me what it is. Maybe we can make a deal."

Louis not only looked scared. He really was scared. "It's, um, an import bike. Guy was real eager to unload it and not be found out. It was wizard owned."

"A motorcycle?" David understood the boy's fear. A tampered motorcycle was a violation of the wizard's covenant. While Europeans would often look the other way, it was one of those things that their American counterparts frowned upon. Unless it was licensed by the government. You could also add smuggling stolen goods to the charge. "And the man you're afraid of?"

Louis looked resigned. "I didn't catch his full name. "Fletcher. He called himself Mud Dog or something like that."

David kept a straight face. Mundungus Fletcher was known to him, because of certain English friends. The boy would be in more danger if he walked across the street without looking both ways. However, he would have to find that out on his own. David would not tell him. Because, as things were shaping up, it could prove useful.

"Let me think for a bit. By the way, do you know that you closely resemble . . ."

"Malcolm? Yeah, I know."

"You could almost . . ."

" . . . be his twin. I know that, too."

"He disappeared sometime this afternoon. And we don't know why."

Louis was clearly surprised. "But? I ain't done nothing yet? It can't be because of me."

David sighed. It was a small chance anyway. He turned back to face Draco and Ginny. "Do either of you have any ideas? I'm open for suggestions."

"What kind of motorbike is it?" Draco asked cheerfully.

"ABOUT MALCOLM."

Draco dropped his smile for a more serious expression. "We need someone who can look for Malcolm without attracting attention. And it would help if someone could pretend to be him, for a few days. Perhaps long enough to rid himself of incriminating evidence?"

Dewey smiled. "That's a great idea. We can't let Mom know or she'll freak out."

David shook his head. "I will be telling your mother as soon as I get back to your house."

"But if she finds out . . . Mister Winter, she always worries about Malcolm. She knows what happened to him. If he's missing again . . ."

Dewey left the last words unsaid, but David understood. If she knew, Lois would become frantic and bother everyone she could. Conditions overseas were not conducive to a public outcry right now. He was forced to concede the point.

"Fine. We can . . . " he looked over his shoulder at Johnny and Louis, " . . . make arrangements for Draco to cover for Malcolm."

"NO," Draco said firmly. "You need me to hunt for Malcolm. I know who and where to ask questions. And I can disguise myself well enough. Just let me know if you'll be staying here, or at your new house. In case I need to get in touch." He noted David's doubt and added, "Do you know someone who can do a better job? If you can name him, I'll go with your plan."

"Then who covers for Malcolm?" Nob asked.

Everyone in the room turned and looked at Louis.

"What? No way. You guys are crazy. That Malcolm is some kind of weird genius. I took remedial reading. It won't work."

David smiled. "And so you see, your honor, neither this boy, nor his father, should be held guilty of any crimes because they were acting on the behalf of the United States Government and the Department of Magic. Louis, do you think your dad would like to hear me say those words when he finally ends up in a courtroom? In my profession, it's what we call a 'get out of jail free' card."

Louis nodded. "OK. What do I have to do."

_You know something. Mister Winter could have ended all of this by just asking what the gift was that I gave Gabrielle. Once she told him it was an owl that looked like me, he would have figured it out. On the other hand, I spent two months living with my girlfriend in her bedroom. I know, it sounds cool until you remember that I spent it in a cage unless I was out delivering a message or hunting for food. And you know what the worst part is? I'm even going to be delivering messages to me at my own house and not even know that's what I'm doing._

_Anyway, Louis's going to have a lot of fun. He gets to be me. Draco did that last year and he's still talking about it._

* * *

Gabrielle looked in the cage at her new owl. The Doctor examined him and told them that Janus would be fine in a month or so. But when the American called to ask about Malcolm, the doctor whispered something to her father. Her father told the man that Gabrielle had received a present but Malcolm had not come to the house. It was only afterward that it was explained to her, while the owl was not in the same room.

Malcolm had hurt his head, badly, but he did it as an owl. It had to heal while he was an owl. The doctor had arranged it that Malcolm would not remember who he was until he was reminded, and he should not be reminded until he was recovered. That is why they lied to the American. But even now, her mother was explaining everything to Malcolm's mother.

Tomorrow she would send a letter to his mother, letting her know what a thoughtful son she had. And, perhaps, Lois might let Malcolm come to Beauxbatons after all. Gabrielle gave one more look, a thoughtful one, then covered the cage with a blanket so the owl could sleep. She then went to talk to her mother.

Inside the cage, the dozing owl began to dream. He was flying, flying high in the dark night. Far ahead of him was a castle and a high tower. There were men on the tower. One of the men shouted. Another man was engulfed in a green light. It was Dumbledore.

The green man turned and looked at Malcolm the owl. His face grew large as Malcolm flew closer. Then the man spoke.

"Malcolm. You will never remember this dream. But when you see this, you will remember what I have told you. And then we will talk."

The owl twitched in his sleep as the dream ended. It slept undisturbed through the rest of the night.


	7. The Good Son

A/N: I just wanted to wish Mandraco good luck. I hope you get O's on all your O.W.L.S. (Or are you taking N.E.W.T.'s? I never pay attention.)

CHAPTER 7: THE GOOD SON

"Gabrielle 'as prepared a cage for 'im. She iz even calling 'im Janus."

Lois sighed. "That's a relief. Malcolm's always getting into some sort of trouble. I told him he would end up behind bars one day if he kept it up. Can you let me know how long it will be before he gets better."

Madame Delacour laughed at the joke. "Ze doctor sez at least a month, but if you remember not to call 'im by 'is real name, we can send you a weekly letter. By Owl."

Business settled, the two mothers talked about small things. About how foolish their children were being. How they were both reckless at times. And most of all how it would be better if they both kept going to different schools. With mutual understanding, they said their goodbyes.

In timely fashion, there was a knock at the door almost as soon as the fireplace cleared. Lois went to the door and opened it to see David Winter standing there with Malcolm and Ginny Weasley.

"What happened?"

"I completely forgot to have someone tell you, Lois," David said apologetically, "but we were delayed while Malcolm and I took a detour to Saint Mungo's."

"What happened?" Lois immediately rushed over to Malcolm and felt his forehead.

"Hey, I'm okay, lady," Malcolm said with annoyance. As David squeezed his shoulder hard, Malcolm winced slightly. "Um, sorry, uh, Mom. It this thing I got."

"It's not contagious," David said hurriedly. "But it sometimes causes Malcolm to say strange things."

Lois looked confused and worried. "What is it?"

David kept a straight face as he gave her the preplanned excuse. "He has what we call a magic cold. The weather is terrible in Britain these days. It's not a normal cold, per se. It's lodged in his brain." He noticed the incredulous look on Lois's face but continued anyway. "He's not in danger or anything. Luckily, it reduces his ability to perform magic, so he can't accidentally hurt himself or others, but he does get confused easily."

"Confused?" Malcolm asked snidely.

"Shut up, Malcolm. Go on, Dave. What can I expect from him?"

David smiled, mostly because he knew Lois was buying the lie. "He'll forget obvious things. He may say strange things . . ."

"Such as 'Hey, I'm okay, lady?"

"Exactly. And he may act strange at times. But it'll pass eventually. We're not sure how long it will take, but you will notice improvement over the next few days."

Lois, during this time had taken Malcolm into a hug and was holding him protectively. She was even maintaining her worried look.

"Is there anything I should do? Medicine or something?"

"Mostly you just need to correct him if he's doing something wrong."

"That'll be all the time." She grabbed Malcolm's chin, forcing him to look up at her, and smiled. "Maybe you'll forget some of those things you do and I won't have to yell at you as much."

"Uh, Sure, lady. I mean Mom."

"What you're going to do first thing is get out of those clothes and take a bath. And wash your hair real good. You've got grease or something in it."

Malcolm smiled. "I don't remember how to take a bath."

Lois smiled back. "Then I'll have to give you one myself."

Malcolm snapped his fingers. "I just remembered., Mom." He turned around and began walking toward the kitchen.

"GET BACK HERE," Lois yelled, as she pointed down the hallway. "In case you've forgotten, It's the first door on the left. And use plenty of soap."

After Malcolm disappeared into the bathroom, Lois sighed. "I only wish he had forgotten how he acts."

David smiled politely. "You could try telling him that he has. It wouldn't hurt for him to develop a few good habits while he's 'recovering'."

Lois nodded gratefully. "It's worth a try." A pause. "If it works, can the other boys get sick as well?"

"I'll look into it," David assured her.

"That was strange," Lois said as an afterthought. "He's never been able to snap his fingers before."

"Maybe you just haven't noticed."

"And his eyes are a different color."

David frowned. "Are they?"

"It must be that cold," Ginny said with authority. "I caught one a couple of years ago and it turned my hair blue for three weeks.

Lois hid a smirk. She didn't know what was going on, but if David was involved, she wouldn't let on until she had a chance to speak with him in private.

* * *

Malcolm walked into the bedroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. Dewey was sitting on his bed watching him.

"Top drawer, left," Dewey said.

"What?"

"Your underwear and socks."

"Thanks. Do I have pajamas."

"No."

"Oh." Malcolm discarded the towel and dressed for bed. "This bed's mine?"

"The middle one, yeah. Malcolm? Is this cool with your dad?"

"Well, he was ticked at me, you know, for screwin' up, but when he heard that guy's offer he went along with it. My old man likes the idea of havin' the feds owe him a favor." Malcolm climbed into bed, "Dewey?"

"Yeah?"

"Good. I got your name right. And who's the runt?" He pointed to the miniature Malcolm sleeping in the corner bed.

"Nob."

"Stupid name."

"It's short for Norbert."

"Oh, that makes it a lot better." Malcolm laid his head back on his pillow. "This is stupid. Why don't you just tell your folks? They'll freak a bit but if they find out it'll just get worse."

Dewey looked at Malcolm. "Louis, Malcolm disappeared once before."

Malcolm looked up. Dewey seemed almost in tears. "I bet I don't want to know what happened."

"He almost died. He was cut up and he was poisoned and he got away only by luck. I never saw Mom that upset. If she finds out he's missing again . . ."

"Who did it?"

Dewey stifled a sob. "Vo - Voldemort."

"But he's dead? My old man told me."

"He came back."

"But . . . but he don't know where you live."

"He stopped by a couple of days ago. Just to say hi."

"Oh. Man. And now I'm in the middle of this sh– , uh, stuff."

"Good save," Dewey told him. "Mom can hear curse words from across town."

The door opened and Lois was there. She scowled at Malcolm and grabbed the towel off the floor. "I swear, some things never change. David told me you'd forget things. Don't you know not to throw wet towels on the floor?"

"But Mom," Dewey complained. "He always does that."

"That's beside the point. Malcolm, from now on I want you to remember. And remember this as well. You're mowing the lawn first thing tomorrow. In case you've forgotten, you're the only one who doesn't complain about it." Lois walked out, closing the door.

"Is that true?" Malcolm asked.

"Yeah," Dewey acknowledged. "You're a real nerd."

The door opened before Malcolm could say his next word.. "And watch your mouth, young man," Lois told Malcolm. "I know what you were going to say."

Malcolm was tempted to say a few choice words when the door opened again, and Lois scowled at him.

"Don't even think about it."

When the door closed, Malcolm turned to Dewey. "How does she do that?"

* * *

"I wanna fly a broom." The young boy in the robin's-egg-blue robes was adamant.

"No, you don't," Francis said assuredly. "Sleepy Hollow is a western ranch. What you want is a horsey ride."

"I wanna fly a broom."

"You're only seven. And your folks said you want to ride a horse." He grabbed the reluctant boy's hand and dragged him to the corral. "You see, look at that beautiful white pony. That's Buttercup. She is the sweetest horse you can find."

The boy kicked Francis.

"And that other horse, the grey mare. She's Tympani. You can't get a smoother ride from any other horse."

Francis pushed the kid away as the boy went to kick him again. The boy landed on his butt in the dirt. He looked up as he saw another man leading a mangy black horse from the barn.

"What's wrong with that horse."

"Oh, you don't want to ride him. That's Black Death. You can walk him just fine but if you get on his back, he goes crazy." Francis looked the boy in the eye. "He can smell fear. Anyone who tries to ride him will be thrown from his back in a minute. Unless he's in a playful mood. Then he'll run across the plains and drop you off in the middle of nowhere." He gave a mock shudder which impressed the young boy.

"Only someone without fear can ever ride him. I knew a guy who did. His name was One Eye Pete, and he was afraid of nothing. People said he was even more dangerous than Black Death. But he climbed on that horse and it carried him everywhere, as gentle as you please. He was a dangerous man, and that is one dangerous horse."

True to form, the boy shouted, "I wanna ride him."

"NO," Francis said in mock horror. "It's too dangerous, I tell you. It's madness."

"I'm not afraid. I wanna ride him."

Francis shrugged his shoulders. "Okay. Your folks said I had to let you ride the horse of your choice." He waved to Sven who was walking the horse, and he brought Black Death over to them. Francis picked the boy up and placed him on the horse's bare back.

"He won't wear a saddle so you have to grab hold of his mane." Francis let go of the boy, and the horse slowly walked forward, heading toward the trail that it always took riders on. The boy was in heaven as Francis called out, "that's amazing! He didn't even grumble."

The boy rode the trail, never even complaining about the smell. As he and the horse disappeared around the bend, Sven turned toward Francis.

"Vy you let him go wit Holly like dat. She need her bath."

"Her bath can wait. How'd she get so dirty and stinky anyway?"

"Dat last rain. She won't take da bridge an' walks tru da svamp."

Francis nodded. The kid was old enough to know how to swim.

* * *

"Malcolm," Hal said cheerfully as the boy came out of the bedroom. "I heard you were sick. Anything serious?"

"Naw. Just some kind of cold. That guy who brought me home said it'll make me act funny an' forget things."

"Did you forget about mowing the backyard?"

"Nope. It's already done." Malcolm paused. "Um, Dad? That ba . . . uh, Ginny and me are going over to Dabney's. You know. Watch a movie or something."

Hal smiled knowingly. "You like her. Don't you."

"Yeah," Malcolm said carefully, "but she tells me I'm like a brother to her. An' she's got plenty of 'em. She should know."

"Well, Malcolm," Hal said as he put his arm on the boy's shoulder. "You need to find a way to tell a girl you understand how she feels, and you're old enough for me to tell you my secret." With his free hand, he reached over to the shelf and grabbed a tape. "This is the greatest movie ever made. Casablanca."

Malcolm frowned. "I thought the American Film Institute said Citizen Kane was the greatest movie ever made."

"What do those people know? That's just some dumb movie about a guy who misses his sled and there's some snow globe in there or something. Malcolm, take my word on this. When you hear Bogie say, 'play it, Sam,' you put your arm across her shoulders. And when the plane takes off, tell her you love her and move in for the kiss."

Malcolm looked incredulous. "And that's supposed to work?"

Hal shrugged. "It worked on your mother, and on a few other girls I tested it on, but don't let your mother know that. She thought I was being spontaneous."

"Sure. Thanks, Dad." Malcolm took the tape and walked quickly out the front door where Ginny was waiting on the porch. "You ready, Babe."

"Yeah, Kiddo," Ginny answered with a grin. "What's that?"

"I told . . . my dad . . . we were going to watch a movie. He gave me this one."

"Movies? Hermione's told me about them. I'd like to see one."

"Sure." Malcolm looked at Ginny and tried to smile. Deep inside he was wishing he had never heard of Malcolm. As they walked, he decided to ask a question. "Ginny, Dewey told me that Malcolm almost got killed last June. Was it really that bad."

Ginny looked away and nodded her head. In a broken voice she said, "I found him."

Malcolm decided not to ask any more questions. He wasn't liking the answers at all. To add to his misery, he heard Nob's voice and the sound of running footsteps.

"You forgot. You invited me along," Nob said as he ran up and grabbed Malcolm's hand.

"I'm sick. I forget things," Malcolm answered gruffly.

"You see," Ginny told Nob as she grabbed his other hand. "It was an honest mistake."

"It's what the real Malcolm would try to do," Nob insisted. "He always tries to ditch me."

"Then we share something in common," Malcolm said, and laughed at the face Nob made.

* * *

"How sure are you that this will work," David Winter asked. "I've broken a few dozen regulations already and now I'm trusting my career to a bunch of underage kids."

"I'm nearly of legal age," Draco drawled. "Beside that, as myself I know almost every person of ill repute in the British Isles, thanks to Father's parties. When I become Malcolm, I will also have the brains to figure out the pieces of the puzzle. Nob?"

The boy grinned and hugged Draco, who immediately transformed into Malcolm.

"I do believe," Draco/Malcolm explained, "that this is the first time I wanted this to happen. Now all I need do is grease back my hair and change clothes . . ."

"NO," Malcolm shouted. "You're not going to pretend to be me."

"No, he isn't," David said smiling. "He's going to pretend to be Louis Renault."

"Those are my clothes he has."

"We washed them. They're now safe to wear."

"As I was saying . . ." Draco sighed. "As Louis, I have the third piece I need. The ability to travel in questionable circles. Everyone will assume I'm someone's brat . . ."

"I AIN"T NO BRAT."

" . . . someone's obnoxious brat, and not give me a second look."

David Winter paused. "Why can't you do the same thing while you were Draco."

"Because everyone knows I'm at home with my mother. The Aurors are watching me every minute."

"And Reese is staying with you because? Oh, No. You didn't."

"No. Nob did."

"Reese is at your house pretending to be you?"

Draco smiled and left the room to change. When he came back he resembled Louis very closely. "I'm set. Ginny?"

Ginny smiled as she walked up to Draco. She kissed him and handed him an envelope. When he saw this David began to ask why but Draco saw the look and answered before David could get a word out.

"Mister Winter. Nob's spell doesn't make me look like Malcolm. It turns me into Malcolm. You might be curious to know that Reese, as me, can perform magic spells. He even plays a mean game of Quidditch."

"Then the letter?"

"Addressed to the first person I want to talk to. This way, I know how to find him."

Having said that, Draco, who was now Malcolm, transformed into an owl and flew out an open window, the letter clutched firmly in his claws.

Louis smiled with a mild relief when Draco left. It wasn't jealously, not exactly. It was that they watched that movie while waiting for David Winter to arrive. Draco and Ginny were sitting on the couch. When the moment came that Hal had told him about, he saw Draco put his arm around Ginny. And when the plane took off, Louis was positive that Hal had given Draco the same instructions.

* * *

"Malcolm," Lois called out. "Get in here."

"I didn't do it."

"Didn't do what?"

"Whatever you're accusing me of."

"I didn't accuse you of anything. What did you think I was accusing you of?"

"If you're not accusing me of anything then why did you yell for me."

"I didn't yell."

"Well, why did you call me?"

"Your little girlfriend wrote me a letter, telling me what a great kid you are and that I should let someone as smart as you go to her school. See this owl? Does it look familiar?"

"No. It looks like an owl."

"Malcolm, this owl looks like you when you're an owl. I thought you'd recognize yourself."

"Mom, I don't look in the mirror much when I'm an owl."

"What about all those pictures of you?"

"They always make me look smaller than I really am. I wouldn't have known this owl looked like me if you didn't tell me."

Lois looked at Malcolm. "Well, Gabrielle says that the owl was a gift from you and her sister."

"Then that explains it. Mom, she must have picked out the owl. I might have been there at the pet store but I honestly don't remember any of it."

Lois sighed. "Anyway, Gabrielle said to tell you that she name the owl, Janus."

"Janice? Mom, I may have forgotten a few things but I do know that this owl is a boy. Why'd she give it a stupid name like Janice."

The owl nipped at Malcolm's finger when he pointed.

"OW. You Stupid Bird." Malcolm pulled his fist back to hit the owl.

"DON"T YOU DARE. Malcolm, that is a defenseless bird. Put your arm down. And she named it, JAN-US, not Janice. It's a Greek god or something."

Malcolm scowled at the owl.

The owl scowled back.

_I don't know what Gabrielle sees in that Malcolm kid anyway. He's such a jerk._

* * *

Lois would confide to David but that would not be for another two weeks. This is how the conversation would go.

She poured out the coffee then sat with him at the kitchen table. "He's getting better, but it seems to be a slow process."

"I was hoping they were wrong," David said sincerely, "which is why I didn't tell you. Because of what happened, his memory loss, he will recover but it could be a while. Under the usual circumstances, he would have been back to normal by now."

Lois sighed. "All those things that happened to him. At least he isn't in any danger now. I've talked with the local school. They'll let him go there so he can stay at home. It's either that or that French school where that girl goes to. God knows what Malcolm will do if I let him go there."

"He could go back to Hogwarts," David mentioned. "There's a new Minister. I know the man and I think I have enough pull to get him to lift the expulsion. And he would be safe there. Safer than here I would imagine. I assume Dewey is going back."

"I completely forgot about him."

"And there's the question of Reese."

"He's not here. He's visiting friends."

David nodded. "I know. He's pretending to be Draco while Draco is . . . away."

Lois turned and looked sharply at David. "Did Malcolm tell you? Or was it Dewey? I want to know which one . . ."

"It was Draco," David said firmly. "And before you ask, he is in some trouble, but as long as they don't think he is who he really is, Draco should be able to handle himself. He will have a miserable summer but it's no more than he deserves for running off the way he did."

"What happened to him."

"I'll be honest with you, Lois. Draco is in a position where he's doing odd jobs for someone. Running errands. Watching for people. Things like that. It's nothing he hasn't done before. And it turns out that he is in the perfect position to spot someone we're looking for. I've agreed to pull him out of his predicament as soon as he locates this person for us."

Lois frowned. "And what exactly is he doing right now?"

David smiled. "I believe he is standing on a corner, it's raining all over England today if you didn't know, waiting to see how many people enter a particular house. After all the trouble he's caused, I think he deserves it."

"Has anyone told Narcissa?"

"According to Arthur Weasley, she is very happy with the Draco she has. She will be genuinely sorry to have her real son back."

Lois snorted. "That woman is mad. She likes Dewey as a person. And now you're telling me she prefers Reese to Draco."

David sighed. "I thought you might be upset."

"Why. Everyone's fine, even if they're not where they should be. Draco will come home soon enough. I know Reese is enjoying himself. And Malcolm will get better."

"About Reese. I checked with Glen Levitt Academy and they are very much surprised by the fact that Reese passed. As a result, they are forced to offer him placement for the upcoming year."

"Doesn't do us a lot of good," Lois told him. "We can't afford it. And we've already signed him up for the local high school." She looked at David. "Why are you suddenly interested in where my children go to school?"

"They're in danger. We've decided that it would be best to make arrangements to keep them as safe as possible. And as strange as it sounds, putting them in the middle of danger is the safest place for them. Keeping them here will make all of your children, and you and Hal, open targets."

"The American Government wants to protect my children by sending them out of the country?"

"When I said WE, I didn't mean the government. We're more of, um, an international organization. Unofficial, of course."

Lois nodded. "Dumbledore?"

"He's in charge."

"Fine," Lois said, "but I'll be honest with you. We came back with nothing in this house. Malcolm doesn't have a meal ticket any more. I can't afford to send Reese to any private school, much less his old one."

"I know someone. They'll have enough money to buy clothes and books but it will be a no-frills year."

Lois smiled as she pulled a letter out of her pocket. "Malcolm's girlfriend has been writing me."

David was mildly surprised. "She wants Malcolm to go to Beauxbatons?"

"She wants more than that," Lois said with a laugh. "Here's her last letter. After you read it, tell me what YOU think would happen if I sent Malcolm there."

David read the letter with curiosity then returned it. "I think Malcolm would have an . . . interesting . . . time. Did you show Malcolm this letter?"

"No, But I told him the parts he needed to know."

David smiled. "I should have guessed. I will try to get word to Draco, then." He paused. "Why did you go along with this?"

"You were involved, but I haven't had a chance to talk to you. As soon as I realized who the kid was, I talked to his dad."

David nodded. The rest of the conversation was brief, and David left to return to his office.


	8. Louis Through The Looking Glass

A/N: I do apologize to Muggle1 for writing such short chapters. Despite my efforts to restrain myself from making any snide comments, I must add that the chapters are long enough, you're just reading them too fast. (Isn't that like the Emperor's comment in AMADEUS? There are too many notes. Just cut a few and it will be perfect.)

I also thank Ouatic-7 for pointing out my spelling error. It has been corrected.

I also want to thank Jongluer and Mandraco for their reviews and everyone else for taking the time to read all of this.

CHAPTER 8: Louis Through The Looking Glass

Dewey arrived at Dabney's house to see Louis waiting outside for him. "You ready?"

"Sure. Let's get this over with."

"Everybody should be here by now. I'll point them out to you."

Louis ( dressed as Malcolm) and Dewey stood just inside the front door of Dabney's house.

"That's Dabney," Dewey pointed out.

"I know who he is." Malcolm, as Louis was learning to refer to himself, answered brusquely.

"Yeah, well just remember. He thinks you're a great guy, but you can't stand him."

"So I ignore him?"

"No. He's one of your best friends." Dewey ignored the look of disbelief. "He's talking to Lloyd and Belinda. Lloyd's another close friend of yours. You can't stand him either."

"And Belinda?"

"She's Lloyd's girlfriend. She's a witch and you don't like her."

"And she's also a close friend of mine?"

"No. She's a groupie."

"I've got groupies?"

"Go figure."

"That's Kyle."

"The one that looks like the top of a pencil?"

"Yeah, he's another friend of yours. He's talking to Alex. He's a groupie."

"And I can't stand either of them?"

"Yup."

"Dewey, do I have any friends that I actually like?"

"Stevie."

Malcolm was confused. "Which one is Stevie?"

"I . . . am," said a voice from behind them. "Dewey. What's up . . . with . . . Malcolm?"

Dewey made introductions. "Malcolm, this is Stevie. Stevie, don't tell anybody but this is Malcolm, until Malcolm comes back."

Stevie was immediately concerned. "And where . . . is Malcolm?"

"Oh. Here." Malcolm answered.

"It's not a test," Dewey said with annoyance. "Malcolm disappeared. We're trying to hide the fact from my mom." Dewey clued him in on the excuses they had made for his brother's strange behavior.

"Under . . . stood. Is anyone . . . looking . . . for him?"

"Draco. But don't hold your breath. I'm coaching Malcolm on who he likes."

"That's . . . easy. No one."

Malcolm nodded. "I get the picture. And I hang with these guys?"

"All the time," Dewey said with a smile. "Have fun. I'm going swimming."

Stevie looked up at Malcolm. "Welcome . . . to . . . the party. Follow me."

Malcolm followed as Stevie rolled across the room toward Dabney and Lloyd. When they reached the group Malcolm smiled. Hi, Dabney, Lloyd, Belinda."

All three gave him a strange look.

Malcolm whispered to Stevie. "What did I do wrong?"

"You were nice to them," Stevie whispered back.

"Stevie?" Lloyd asked.

"Malcolm . . . has a . . . magic cold. It makes . . . him . . . act funny."

Everyone nodded in understanding and Dabney and Lloyd went back to their argument on Quantum Mechanics. Stevie joined in on occasion while Malcolm simply nodded. He saw Belinda watching him.

"Hi. Are you following all of this?"

"Not a word." Belinda smiled. "I just love listening to Lloyd talk about how smart he is."

"Un, yeah. He is smart."

Belinda snorted. "You're funny when you're nice."

"Don't worry. I'll get better soon."

"Malcolm," Dabney interrupted. "Will you settle this argument? Does Schrodinger's Cat have any practical application to Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle?"

Everyone looked at Malcolm. Stevie tried to mouth something but he couldn't follow it.

"I never really liked cats. I'm going to find Dewey."

Malcolm beat a hasty retreat to Dabney's bedroom, ignoring the stares he was receiving.

* * *

"Francis," Otto called to the young man. "Have you got der horses ready?"

"Almost. A lot of people are riding today. There are only three left in the stable."

"But ve need four." Otto raised his hand forcefully. "You are Ranch Manager. You vill take care of it. I vill be in mine office if you need me. Better yet, I vill be making moonshine mit Gretchen so ve vill not vant to be disturbed."

"Moonshine?"

"Ya. You take potatoes und let them ferment."

"Otto. You use corn."

"Oh. Never mind. Ve vill think of something else to do."

Otto slipped away, leaving Francis in the lurch.

"Young man," the wizard called as his partner and their wives apparated into the lobby. "We're ready to ride. Have our steeds been prepared."

"Yahoo," His companion said in what he thought was true western fashion.

"Sir," Francis corrected. "You say that after you mount the horse."

"And where is the fearsome beast?"

Francis led the four to the stables and showed them the three horses already saddled. "We're waiting for another horse to come in but it may be a while."

"Francis," Piama called from the stable entrance. "Pete's up on the roof again."

"Excuse me," Francis called. "I'll be right back with the other horse but I need to ask. "Are any of you afraid of heights?"

* * *

"Stevie," Malcolm asked later that day. "How is it that I like you. I figured with you being a cripple and all . . ."

Stevie turned his wheelchair around to face Malcolm, then elevated himself so that he could look the other boy straight in the eye."

"That . . . doesn't . . . bother Malcolm." Stevie was angry. "He looks . . . inside . . . a person."

"But he doesn't like anyone else? All those Krelboynes."

Stevie's anger changed suddenly. "You . . . really don't . . . understand . . . Malcolm. Do you? . . . See Dabney? . . . Malcolm . . . hates . . . Dabney. Malcolm . . . will tell . . . you he . . . hates Dabney. He . . . will even . . . tell Dabney."

"Yeah?"

"Malcolm has . . . never . . . refused Dabney . . . a favor."

"But he doesn't like Dabney?"

"But Dabney . . . is a friend."

Malcolm pondered his alter ego. "Does Malcolm even understand what friendship is?"

Stevie smiled. "No."

"Should I apologize for that remark I made? Calling you a cripple."

"It would . . . be nice."

"I'm sorry."

"Accepted . . . And next time . . . think . . . before you . . . say something . . . stupid."

Having chastised Malcolm, Stevie rolled out of the living room to Dabney's bedroom leaving Malcolm trapped in the pit of hell. Somehow he had been left in the company of Lloyd and Belinda.

"There's the dance at the high school. We could go to that," Lloyd suggested.

"Can you dance yet?" Belinda inquired.

"Some. The slow dances. I made it a point to learn those because they're more intimate. A lot of the faster ones are beyond me."

"Okay. And Kyle asked if we wanted to go to the movies. I think that's a plus. You know. People thinking of us like we're a couple."

"Yeah, that is good. We could start talking in plural, too. Like telling him, we'd love to go, or asking when we should be there."

Belinda nodded. "That is a good idea. I never knew going out with someone would be so difficult."

Malcolm shook his head. "Look. I'm sorry I have to ask you this, but do either of you really like each other."

"We're getting used to each other," Lloyd pointed out.

"And we've been learning what the other likes and dislikes," Belinda added. "It was easy to decide on what compromises to make. I was surprised."

"Belinda, do you love Lloyd?"

"Um, not really. Why?"

"Lloyd, do you love Belinda."

"No. Is that important?"

Malcolm was amazed at the answers. "Well, most people go together because they're in love, or because they like each other a whole lot. Not because they don't have anything else to do."

Lloyd looked annoyed. "Malcolm, if you haven't noticed, I'm not the type of person that girls are attracted to. Most of them laugh if I even try and talk to them."

"But Belinda's not attracted to you either."

"What's that got to do with it?" Belinda asked. "I'm not the prom queen, if you haven't noticed. Most guys ignore me, or try to take advantage of me. I'm no genius, but I don't have to be smart to know why most boys are interested in me. And I am smart enough not to like boys like that."

"And Lloyd doesn't," Malcolm said, trying to understand. "Act like that?"

"I'm too scared to even think about it," Lloyd admitted.

"And I do like the fact that he's smart," Belinda acknowledged. "It's convenient when I'm having trouble thinking things out."

Malcolm nodded. "Okay, you don't like each other, but you like the fact that your 'significant other' is not like other boys, or girls."

Lloyd and Belinda nodded.

"And how far are you going to take this."

"Malcolm, think about it." Lloyd seemed frustrated at how thick his friend appeared. "If you're going out with somebody then people treat you differently. Girls will talk to me like I really am a likable person."

"And," Belinda pointed out, "when I talk to other boys, they listen to me, to what I'm saying. It's as though they found out I do have a brain. Since I'm already 'taken,' they actually think of me as a person. Lloyd and I are better off since we decided to go out together. Neither of us wants to go back to the way things were."

Malcolm smirked. "Are you going to get married?"

"Probably," Belinda answered, and Lloyd agreed. "We'll wait until we've graduated high school. And maybe college."

"It'll be when everyone else starts getting married. People will expect that of us."

And Malcolm understood. "The two of you are going out together to hide the fact that you're both losers. And you'll get married to keep people from finding out your secret."

Embarrassed, both nodded their heads.

Malcolm shook his head in disbelief. He was about to say something that would actually have been exactly the thing that the real Malcolm would have said, when he remembered Stevie's recent admonition. Instead, he said something else. It might be un-Malcolmish but he didn't care.

"You two should know that I'm very familiar with what it means to be a loser." He smiled at them. "You two will never be losers, as long as you have each other."

Belinda and Lloyd looked at Malcolm in surprise. Then they looked at each other. As though it was planned, they reached out and took each others hand. When they turned back to Malcolm, they were smiling.

As Malcolm walked away, he decided that he had watched too many movies. He looked up as Johnny announced it was time for everyone to leave. Dewey and Nob walked past him wearing swimsuits and flip-flops and headed out the door. Malcolm turned to follow but, as luck would have it, he ran into Dabney.

"Malcolm, you have to help me."

"Your Mom's coming back?"

"Maybe next month, but that's not the problem."

"Okay. What is?"

"Johnny wants me to be the salesman again."

"You were great last time, from what I heard. Just do again."

Dabney cringed with fear. "I can't do it again. Don't you understand? I was acting spontaneously in a unique situation. It's not something I can duplicate."

"Fine. I'll be the salesman. What do I have to do?"

"Memorize the price list for every item in my bedroom."

"Not a problem. Anything else?"

"Give two dozen people a tour and answer every question they ask."

"That's easy. What else?"

"They're coming to my house in fifteen minutes."

Malcolm snarled. "That's what I like. Plenty of warning."

* * *

Malcolm donned the robes hastily and stood facing two dozen wizards and witches, all of whom looked like they needed a laxative. Johnny whispered to him.

"I've given them the basics. They just need the tour."

"OKAY, LISTEN UP, PEOPLE." Malcolm smiled as everyone looked at him. "Look. All a youse know you're in a muggle house. Right? An' for all you know, I'm a muggle. Keep that in mind and follow me. We're goin' to my bedroom. It's about half the size of this room but that's not the point. This ain't your normal muggle bedroom." He turned to walk away, then turned back. "I'm not kidding, people. You came this far, you might as well find out why."

Malcolm held the door while everyone entered the foyer and walked into the den. He waited for everyone to get a good look, then spoke from behind them. "The stained glass window above you is also the ceiling of the entire fourth floor, which includes several bedrooms, a guest room, and because they couldn't think of where else to put it, an Olympic-size swimming pool. This is just to show you how efficiently and easily, J&D expansion spells can hold up. This entire area is the result of one clearly defined and heavily warded spell. That's our selling point."

"And the furnishings?" A matronly witch asked.

"Are on consignment from almost every wizardly crafter and not a few muggles companies as well. Everything you see is for sale. Ask the owners about pricing. If someone makes it, we can get it. If they don't make it, we'll find someone who does."

A wizard snorted. "You don't seem to care about the furniture."

"We're selling space, Mister. The biggest space possible in the smallest space possible. The furniture is there for decoration. And if you want some, fine. What I want to impress upon you is the amount of space this muggle bedroom has. And just remember, this space was shaped this way just for show. You've got this much space in whatever shape you want. And that's what I'll be showing you. The living room, greenhouse and playroom are through that arch. If you feel along the wall underneath the second floor balcony, there is a secret room, for people who think they need one. But first we'll go this way, around the aquarium to the game room."

"I'm impressed already," a young wizard said aloud."

Malcolm smiled. "I should tell you. The floors are not all the same size." He paused. "The second floor is almost the same, and the third floor is about half the size but in a strange shape, just to show off, but the fourth floor is almost as big as the rest of the room. It seems the Architects wanted the pool to have a glass ceiling."

"Wait a minute," An older wizard said, almost shouting. "The floors don't have to be the same size?"

Malcolm's smile became a grin. "It's not a box that becomes a bigger box. Would you like a tower? Twenty stories. The first floor has the door you enter and a cloak closet. The second floor is a nice sitting room. The third floor the living room. And so on, ending with the Grand Ballroom on the top floor with the stone balcony surrounding it."

"You can do that?"

"For a price?" Malcolm told him. "Let's talk money later. First let me show you what we're selling."


	9. And What He Found There

A/N: My thanks to Dragongirl Jun for correcting my use of German. I have made the suggested changes, but I'm sure I'll still make mistakes later on.

And I thank Jongleur for answering yesterday's physic's question. He answered Yes. (Schroedinger actually developed the idea of the cat in the box to demonstrate the absurdity of Heisenberg's statement. But most of you knew that already.) I don't recognize the Ninja in a box reference. Perhaps I should check out Rick Berman's work? All I know about him is that he does a comic strip or something on the subject.

This is also another short chapter, so I've decided to give a little test for everyone who's willing to try it. Here goes: Lift your right foot and move it around in a clockwise circle. (You can be sitting or standing while you do this.) While moving your foot, draw the number "6" in the air with your right hand. (This works for the left leg and arm as well).

On a closing note, Johnny's House Extensions (TM) can be ordered directly from the manufacturer. Simply send an owl to J&D Associates and a service representative will get back to you.

CHAPTER 9: AND WHAT HE FOUND THERE

Hal walked up behind Lois and gave her a hug.

"Not now, Hal. I need to finish the dishes."

"It wasn't that," Hal insisted. "It just helps me to know that you're there."

Lois turned from washing the dishes to look at her husband.

"What's wrong?"

"Malcolm. It not . . . I mean . . . It'll just sound stupid."

"Tell me, anyway. If it's stupid I'll let you know. I always do."

"Well, maybe it is me. But I was looking at Malcolm at breakfast and I noticed his eyes were brown. I always thought his eyes were blue."

"They are blue. And did you notice he got a haircut without me telling him to?"

Hal shrugged. "Not really. I thought I was lucky and missed out when you yelled at him."

"Nope. Never said a word." Lois smiled. "Don't worry, Hal. That isn't Malcolm."

"That's a relief. Who is he?"

"You know that lowlife that Francis always used to hang around with."

"Yeah. Greaser. That isn't him, is it? Some magic spell or something?"

Lois glared at Hal. "Of course not. That's his son, Louis. He's taking Malcolm's place so we won't worry about him."

Hal nodded. "That's nice of him. Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's a secret. They don't want either of us to know that Malcolm is missing."

"Is Malcolm missing?"

"Of course not, Hal. He had an accident as an owl and he forgot that he's human. He's living with his little girlfriend until he gets better. She sends him to me with a letter every week so I can see how he's doing."

Hal smiled in understanding, then frowned when he realized he didn't understand. "Honey, if you know about Malcolm, why are they trying to hide the fact that Malcolm is missing when he really isn't?"

"I told you, they don't want me to worry. They don't know what happened to him."

With annoyance, Hal asked, "Who are they, anyway?"

"Dewey and Nob, that boy Louis and his dad, and David Winter. Draco probably knows but I can't prove it. I think he went looking for Malcolm. Which is a nice thing for him to do, if he's actually doing it. And it's nice of them, too. Going through all of this just to keep me from worrying." She paused. "And don't you tell them, either. I want to keep Louis around here for a while."

"Why him?"

"Did you take a good look at him, Hal. He's mostly skin and bones compared to Malcolm. I bet living here is the first time he's eaten three meals a day on a regular basis. I'm not saying that his dad doesn't love him or anything, but that doesn't mean he knows anything about raising children. You can't just let your kid eat whatever he wants because it's easier than cooking."

"Yeah. It's important," Hal said dreamily.

"You're not paying attention, are you?"

"What?"

* * *

It was a bright, sunny day. The park was the place to be.

"Malcolm," Malcolm said as he lay on the grass. "I hate that name."

"So do I," Dewey said from where he sat. "You know what's worse. Telling you how to be just like him. It's bad enough I had to suffer through all of those things, but now I have to recall them as well, and relate why you did them."

"Shut up, Dewey."

"And another thing. Except for not being real smart, you're acting exactly like him."

"I'm supposed to, you little jerk."

"Malcolm."

"Ugh. What is it?"

"What if he doesn't come back."

"Don't ever say that, Dewey. Ever. He's coming back. He has too. And if he doesn't, I want to know before Mom finds out so I can be miles away from here."

David Winter cleared his throat from where he sat on the park bench. "If the two of you are through bickering, I want to give you an update on what's going on."

"You're frowning," Dewey noted. "You didn't find Malcolm."

"We do know a lot of places he isn't," David said without humor. "But we have to deal with the two of you going back to school."

"Whadja mean?" Malcolm asked. "I'm home schooled."

"It shows," David replied. "But, with your father's permission and the acquiescence of the headmaster, you will be spending one semester at Hogwarts if Malcolm doesn't return."

"No way. I quit. Get yourself another Malcolm."

"Mister Winter," Dewey pointed out. "Malcolm's been expelled. He can't go back there. He attacked a teacher."

David smiled. "No. He didn't. Thirty Nine first-years offered to testify that Malcolm did not move a muscle to cast that or any other spell.. And after a private discussion with Deputy Minister Umbridge, she withdrew her complaint, adding that she probably tripped. The fact that they have a new Minister of Magic helped out."

Dewey frowned. "Then Malcolm's coming back this year."

"If we find him. And we will. And you will be happy to know that we've arranged a trip for both of you to Diagon Alley if need be, so that you can get your school supplies."

Malcolm frowned. "You're really sending me away to that school?" He sighed. "At least it ain't Beauxbatons. I don't think I could deal with that girl, Gabrielle, and her stupid letters about what a wonderful boy I am. Do you know that she writes every week."

"Do you write back?"

"Yeah, and she's sending her letters to Mom, uh, his mom, trying to talk her into letting me, him, go to her school."

"Isn't love wonderful."

"Yeah, but that owl of hers hates me for some reason. And I didn't even come close the last time when I threw that book at it. It's a stupid owl anyway. She only got it because it looks like me, er, Malcolm."

David smiled. He knew all about the owl.

* * *

"Is Malcolm coming back?" Nob asked.

Dewey shrugged. "I don't know."

"What happened to him."

"I don't know."

"Draco went to look for him. Didn't he?"

"Yeah."

"Did he find him?"

"Not yet."

"He'll be back. He's fine," Nob said with authority.

Dewey stopped himself from laughing. Malcolm was his brother but that didn't stop him from feeling bad about what happened. "How can you be so sure?"

"I believe it. If you believe it, it must be true."

"Nob, that's stupid. You know that guy who hangs out down the street from Lucky Aid. The one who claims the world is going to end next week."

"Yeah?"

"He believes that. But that doesn't mean he's right."

Nob gave Dewey a frown. This was not the hopeful support he wanted.

"Maybe it will."

"Maybe he's wrong. He was. Last week. And the week before. Maybe he believes it because he really wants the world to end."

"But I want Malcolm to come back." Nob's voice became small.

"Me too. But I can only hope."

"Hope?"

"Like the last time Malcolm disappeared. If he did it before, he can do it again."

"Hope? That's like wanting something to happen and it still can?"

"Yeah. Like that story in the Daily Prophet."

Nob's eyes lit up. "The one about the boy who was rescued from the werewolves?"

"That's the one. His parents didn't give up hope, even when things looked really bad. And what happened?"

Nob's voice betrayed his excitement as he recalled the article. "A powerful wizard rescued him and brought him to Saint Mungo's so they could cure him. They said the werewolves were furious."

Dewey smiled at his brother. "And those werewolves made stupid mistakes and gave themselves away, and now we don't have as many to worry about. And that kid is back with his parents."

"Dewey? Will the wizard rescue Malcolm?"

"Maybe? We can only hope."

Nob nodded happily at the thought. Hope was a lot better than belief. It seemed more real. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice as Dewey took his chance and ditched him.

* * *

The next morning, just after breakfast, Hal walked into the living room.

"Son," Hal said with excitement.

Louis looked up. "Yeah, Dad."

"I've been thinking it over and I realized. We haven't spent any time together as father and son in quite a while. So, I talked it over with your mother and she agreed to let me take you to work with me today. Just to spend time with each other. And to let you know what to expect when you grow up. Miserable working conditions. Bosses who know less about life than you do, but have the owner of the company as their uncle or father-in-law or something like that. It'll be an experience you'll never forget, regardless of how hard you try."

Louis almost told Hal the truth. "Sure, Dad. It sounds like fun. Do I have to wear a suit and tie?"

"I don't think you have one. You've grown since the last time you wore the last one. Maybe one of Reese's might fit. Your normal clothes should be fine. And one more thing. Don't tell your mom. Okay."

"Sure?"

"HONEY," Hal called out, "I'm going to drop Malcolm off at the park on my way to work. He wants to meet his friends."

"DID HE BRUSH HIS TEETH?"

"YES," Louis called out.

"FINE."

"Okay," Hal whispered. "Let's go."

Once in the car, Hal pulled of his tie and threw it in the back seat. "I've got a surprise for you, Malcolm. We're not going to work. I took the day off."

"Where are we going?"

Hal smiled. "Have you ever heard of NASCAR?"

Louis looked at Hal with worship in his eyes.

* * *

Lois glared at Hal when he and Malcolm arrived home. Dewey was glaring at Malcolm.

"Hal, I need to talk to you. In the bedroom. NOW."

* * *

"Hal, are you crazy? What did you think you were doing? What did I tell you about keeping a secret."

"Honey, I didn't tell him any secrets. I told him I haven't spent much time with him and that I had a surprise. We went to the racetrack. Stock Cars, not horses."

"Your new T-Shirt with the checkered flag on it gave that part away. Why?"

To Lois's surprise, Hal became angry.

"I'll tell you why? In all the time since Francis was born, I have NEVER had one decent trip with any of my kids. Something has always happened. I mean, we've shared some good times, but can you remember a single time we've ever tried to do anything with the kids and it worked out? Even with Nob?"

"Of course I can, Hal."

"Well?"

"Okay, I can't. It's all I can do to keep them from screwing up any more than they do." Lois took a deep breath. "So. What happened?"

Hal's voice betrayed his excitement. "It was great. It was perfect. If I had known it was going to be that good I would have brought you along too, just to see it. I told Malcolm, um, you know who, that we were sneaking out and when I told him where we were going you could see his eyes light up. We got there, and he loved the seats. He loves racing but he never had the chance to go. Lois, we had a GREAT time."

"And you bought him a cap to make him happy?"

"No," Hal said mockingly. "He was already happy, and well behaved. I guess the kids forgot to tell him how Malcolm acts. The hat was a memento, something to remember the good time we had."

"And that?" Lois asked pointing to the scroll under Hal's arm."

"They have this new feature, Hal said as he unrolled the poster. They take your picture and put you standing in front of your favorite car with the driver. Rusty Malcolm was racing today, you remember him. I told Malcolm that's who he was named after."

Hal showed Lois the poster. Hal and Louis were standing on either side of Malcolm's namesake in a very realistic pose. All three were smiling."

Lois nodded approvingly. "It's amazing what they can do with computers these days. How did they get the driver with his hand resting on Malcolm's shoulder like that."

"This day just kept getting better and better, Lois. I told Malcolm about Rusty while we were waiting in line, just as Rusty's girlfriend was walking by. And I didn't even know it."

"I thought he was married? And didn't he retire?"

"He got divorced last year. That's why he went back to racing. Anyway, his girlfriend invites us to meet Rusty, and guess what?" Hal started jumping up and down in his excitement. "That's the real Rusty. That's his real car. And that's his real autograph in the corner. And he autographed Malcolm's poster as well. It was the best day I ever had. Louis said it was the best day he ever had." Hal sat on the bed in exhaustion. "We both had a wonderful time." He looked up at Lois. "I just thought of a perfect ending."

* * *

"Malcolm, can I talk to you for a minute?" Dewey waited until his parents had left the living room. "Are you crazy," he said in an angry whisper. "What did you do?"

Malcolm grinned and pointed to the cap he was wearing. "It's called NASCAR. Oh man, Dewey, it was so cool. We were high enough to see the whole track but not too high, if you know what I mean."

"No, I don't. But if my Dad suspects something?"

"Dad? Suspect? What's to suspect. We went to the racetrack. We had a great time. Dad is so cool . . ."

"NO. He isn't. He's Dad. We never spend time with him if we can help it."

"Well, we did. We had a great time. And we found out we actually like each other. We both like cars. And motorcycles. And we both hate light beer. And . . ."

"He bought you a beer?" Dewey asked in amazement.

"I asked if I could have one. He said it had to be a light beer. It was a really cool moment. I said naw, I don't like light beer and his put his hand on my shoulder and said, 'That's my boy.' I mean, he was proud of me because of that. We're going to a baseball game this weekend."

Dewey was amazed. "Malcolm, you do remember you're really Louis, don't you."

"No, I'm not. I spent all this time learning to talk like Malcolm and act like Malcolm. I'm going to be Malcolm, and I'm going to be the type of Malcolm I want to be. And I want to be a nice Malcolm because a nice Malcolm gets things. Like a dad who takes him to the racetrack, and to baseball games, and he hinted about going camping, but we'll have to bring the rest of you guys if we do that. That'll be a family thing."

"Louis? Your dad doesn't do any of that?"

"Pop? My old man's always too busy. If I asked him to go camping he'd send me to camp for a couple of weeks. He'd get me tickets for a game if I wanted to go. But your old man . . . he took me, as a surprise, just because he wanted to do something with his own kid. Why? You got a problem with that."

"What do we do when Malcolm gets back?"

"That's your problem, kid. Until then. I'm havin' fun with my family. You wanna play catch or something."

"No way . . . um, yeah, I would like that." Dewey gave Louis a strange look. "I never had a brother who wanted to just do stuff."

"I'm getting my glove and ball. I'll be in the backyard if you want to join me."

Dewey stared in surprise. A nice brother? Like in the movies? He looked where Malcolm was coming out of their bedroom. Malcolm grinned and tossed Dewey a glove. They went out back and had a wonderful time. Hal came out to watch them and when Nob wandered by, they ganged up on him and taught him how to play. And when Lois called them to dinner, four happy and cheerful boys sat around the table and talked about racing and baseball and all sorts of things.

* * *

Lois smiled as she looked over at Hal and the boys. They found a lovely spot near the river and away from most of the other picnickers. Hal was helping Nob untangle his fishing line. Lois noticed him stop to look up. Dewey had snagged a fish and Malcolm was coaching him on how to reel it in. There would be another picture, and then they would throw the fish back.

"Honey," Hal called with a smile, "Can you watch my fishing pole. I'm going to be a while with this." His hands were filled with fishing line.

Lois laughed and walked to the river's edge and picked up the pole. Suddenly she felt a tug. "I don't believe it. I've got a bite."

"Good going, Mom," Malcolm called out. "Don't let it get away."

"Look," Dewey shouted when the fish jumped. "That's the biggest one I've seen all day."

Lois reeled in the fish. A picture was taken with everyone standing with her and admiring the fish. Then Nob fell in the water and refused to come out. Fishing was over and swimming began. After everyone was tired, they crawled out of the river and ate everything that had been packed. Still hungry, they made a stop at Burger Barn on the way home. Another happy day had ended and another photo of the family would find it's place on the wall.


	10. Draco's Adventure's In Wonderland

A/N: To start off, The thing about moving your leg was an exercise in how your brain functions. If you are moving your leg in a circle in one direction, it is impossible, using the arm on the same side of the body, to make a circular motion in the opposite direction. You can move your right leg clockwise and write the number 6 with your left hand without any problem.

I regret to inform Muggle1 that the story about Harry, er, Malcolm was intended to be a one shot deal. It was something to do until the next book came out. I am thinking of completing the story of Edmund Blackadder and the Philosopher's stone. I have a cunning plot.

And I promise mandraco we will get back to Malcolm specifically in the next chapter, or the one after that.

CHAPTER 10: Draco's Adventures in Wonderland

"Whot you want?" The man asked suspiciously as he peered out from behind the door of the rundown house.

"Mundungus Fletcher?"

"Yer Greaser's kid. Whot you doin' here?"

Draco smiled innocently. "My old man likes the bike. He wanted you to know. Now open the door and let me in or I'll show you every curse I've ever learned."

Reluctantly, Mundungus let Draco into his house. Draco entered and smiled approvingly. Various paraphernalia littered the room. A large assortment of cauldrons. Boxes of miscellaneous charms. Assorted pieces of silverware. Things like that.

As Mundungus closed the door, he scowled. "And why are you here? How did you find me?"

"I'm looking for a missing person, Someone you would know."

"Who?"

"An animagus. He can transform into an owl. And he left behind a letter addressed to you." Draco handed him the envelope. "I'm asking for friends. What do you know about any missing children?"

Mundungus opened the envelope and pulled out a blank piece of paper. He stared at the greasy-haired boy who was still smiling.

"Nothin' about that boy Malcolm. But there's talk of this one kid. Disappeared a couple of weeks ago."

"And?"

"An' he disappeared. Now tell me what's up and who's with you or get out?"

"Truth for truth. Nobody's with me. But my old man's back home ready to talk to the feds if he don't hear from me regular. Kabish?"

"What?"

"Do you understand?"

"Oh. Yeah, I understand. And what's going on?"

"Malcolm's missing. And nobody wants to let on. Father says I'm good at sneaking around, and sent me to ask questions."

"Father?"

'Oops,' thought Draco. "My old man, you jerk. Now, I answered your questions. Answer mine. And?"

Mundungus hesitated. "The feds?"

"The American Department of Magic. They knew about the bike. But if we find Malcolm, they'll forget all about it. Dad an' me like the idea, and I think you do, too."

The crafty thief smiled as the territory suddenly became familiar. He knew all about cutting a deal. "Okay. I don't know much. But there are certain places you don't want to go to. Not without a lot of other people to help you. Rumors have it that the boy who disappeared, his folks got on the wrong side of a certain werewolf. That's all I know." Mundungus added carefully, "I don't think your friend is there, though."

"I hope you're right. And Fletcher? Greaser likes working with you. He says you've got good stuff."

"Yeah. Thanks."

The man closed the door behind the American boy with the solemn oath that from now on he would only trade locally. Much less hassle that way.

* * *

The weather was miserable as Draco, as an owl, set in the branches of the lifeless tree. He was waiting for a reply to a letter and decided to spend his time investigating a chance remark Dewey had made. He didn't know why Grimauld Place was important but he felt it was worth a try. It was his third day perched in the tree and no one had come by. At least no one who was a witch or a wizard. He started to doze when another owl landed on the branch next to him.

The other owl was clearly surprised when Draco hooted at it but held out the letter, anyway. Draco took the letter in his beak and the owl, content to go back to America, flew away eagerly.

Draco flew to the ground and transformed. He then opened the letter from David Winter. Malcolm was still missing but Louis, coached by Dewey, was doing an excellent job being Malcolm. There was no cause to worry. There was also the information that Draco had asked for. The most likely locations of the werewolf, Fenrir Greyback. Draco shuddered at a thought. He did not know how David obtained the information but he was now faced with a serious problem.

Draco had met Greyback once, with his father. It was not a pleasant meeting. For Draco. The man scared him. But the man was in the habit of stealing away children to no good purpose. If he had taken Malcolm . . ." Draco sighed. He had to make sure.

"I'm an idiot," Draco said suddenly. He knew the perfect way to find the werewolf. Conjuring a quill, he crossed out his name and wrote the name of the werewolf in its place. Sighing once more, he grasped the envelope tightly and transformed into an owl.

* * *

Draco perched on a high branch so that his scent would not reach any of the people below. He could not see much but he could hear almost everything if he concentrated. He gave silent thanks for his friend for choosing to be an owl. He would never have been able to get this close to the cave and the camp of the werewolf clan without such an ability. And now he was listening to a very interesting conversation.

"Save your excuses, Lupin," Greyback said with a snarl. "You came here and you weren't followed. That's why you're still alive. You've followed all of my orders but you still have much to answer for."

"I've told you," Remus Lupin said, almost pleading, "I've nothing left. All of my friends are dead, or they've betrayed me. I have nowhere else to go. No other choice. I will do what I must. I promised I would. And I have."

"I made you, Lupin. And I can unmake you. One false move, one wrong word, and you will be my next meal. But prove yourself and you will have a place in the pack. Do you understand?"

"Completely." There was regret in Lupin's voice.

"Good. At least you know the right words to say. And I'll give you a another chance to show you mean it. That cub. I'll be with him when I turn at the full moon, tonight. Until then, I want someone to keep an eye on him every minute. In an hour, you will take your turn at watch. And I'll be watching you. Everything you say. Every move you make."

Draco smiled inwardly. For some reason he was reminded of an old muggle song. Every move you make. Every chance you take. When he knew that Lupin was alone, he took his chance.

For his part, Remus Lupin was surprised when the owl landed near him, and even more surprised when it took the shape of a fourteen year old boy. For his part, Draco was smart. Malcolm smart. He could think as quickly and as sharply, although he did so with more purpose than his friend ever had. He didn't talk to Lupin, he stepped close enough to see in the dark and mouthed the words.

_I'm looking for Malcolm._

Lupin frowned at the remark, then remembered something he had been told and mouthed back to him.

_You're Draco Malfoy_.

Draco nodded. _Malcolm is missing. Have you seen him?_

_No, but there is a boy. I don't know who he is._

_Where?_

Lupin pointed and mouthed directions. _I doubt it is Malcolm._

Draco nodded._ I have to find out. I'll take the chance. If it's him, I'll get him out of here._

Lupin nodded in return and gave him a sad look. _And if he isn't. I know he'll be bitten. Or killed. And I know he has a family._

Draco shrugged. _If he isn't, it isn't my concern._ He then snarled. _If you tell about me, I'll save Fenrir Greyback the trouble of killing you._

The pitying look Remus Lupin gave him made Draco feel completely stupid for making that threat. Hiding his embarrassment, Draco transformed and fell back into the trees. Behind him, he could hear Lupin stand up and slowly make his way to where the boy was being held.

Draco found the spot quickly. He could even see the boy lying on the ground, his shirt torn away from an earlier struggle. The boy was only six or seven, curled up in a ball, and whimpering. It was obviously not Malcolm. Had he been human, Draco would have sighed in relief. His worst fears had not come true. He was truly glad that this had been a dead end. He took wing and began to the long flight back to London.

_What if it's not Malcolm?_

_It's not my problem._

_I don't even care about that kid._

_HE'S NOT MY RESPONSIBILITY._

_Dang. I hate arguing with myself_.

Draco landed on the nearest branch. He wasn't Malcolm. On the other hand, he was Malcolm. Even though he knew who he was, the habits were still in the body he wore. He resisted the urge to turn human just to vent his feelings. He had to think quickly. But then, he was Malcolm. That was his specialty. His plan would take determination.

_Fine. I'll do it. I just wish I knew how._

Draco thought furiously. Lupin was coming to take over the watch. Lupin would help him. But Lupin would be killed as a result. And how could he get away. The boy was small, but not small enough for an owl to fly him away. And they would guess who the owl was. There weren't a lot of owl animagi. He didn't have a broom. Or a portkey. And he couldn't run away with the boy. Not with all those people around. He wouldn't get more then ten feet.

_THAT'S IT! Draco, you're a genius. At least while you're Malcolm._

Draco flew down and landed on a low branch along a path. As Remus Lupin walked by, Draco ruffled his feathers. It was barely loud enough but Lupin turned and saw the owl. Draco became human and mouthed his words to the man.

_Sound the alarm._

Remus continued walking as he watched the owl fly into the air. He was only fifty feet away from the boy when he turned to the sound of a screaming yell as Draco, in his unusual costume, jumped out of a tree twenty yards behind him.

"INTRUDER," Remus shouted as he pointed. But at that moment, A crackling pop was heard. Remus Lupin was stunned. Draco Malfoy had apparated in mid-air. Then, he swung around as another popping noise was heard behind him. Draco Malfoy had apparated to a point in the air directly above the man on guard. He smashed into the man, feet first. People were already stirring when Remus began to shout.

"STOP HIM. HE'S STEALING THE CUB."

But Draco was already moving. He had planned very well. When he hit the ground, he rolled in the right direction, landing next to the startled boy. Even as Remus shouted and ran toward the scene, he saw Draco smile and pick the boy up. His heart almost burst into joy when Remus saw the boy give Draco an eager smile. As another figure suddenly leaped at the two boys, Remus stopped in his tracks.

The younger boy had placed his hand firmly an Draco's arm, and both had taken a curious step. There was a loud clap of collapsing air as the two apparated away. A half second later, Fenrir Greyback landed directly on the spot from which the two has disappeared In his anger, he killed the man on guard.

* * *

The doctor turned quickly as the two suddenly appeared in the emergency area at Saint Mungo's. In seconds she had her wand out and was examining the injured boy.

"He may have been bitten. Fenrir Greyback."

"He's also half starved," the doctor pointed out.

"To make him hungry for his first kill," Draco said casually.

"My mum," the boy asked fearfully.

"We'll get her," the doctor assured the boy, "but first we'll take care of you and get you something to eat. Another doctor and two nurses appeared and instructions were being given on what to do. That finished, the doctor turned to Draco.

"You rescued him?"

Draco shrugged.

"How?"

He remembered his roll and made it a point to brush back his greasy hair. "A lotta luck, lady. And if he's okay, I gotta go."

"He's fine. And I can tell you he hasn't been bitten, but I think you knew that.." The doctor eyed him curiously. "Who are you?"

Draco couldn't help himself. "I'm Harry Potter, Lady. I'm in disguise."

"Really?" The doctor was laughing with him.

"Now you know why they're callin' me the Chosen One. All that fame, I gotta be good at disguises."

The doctor held out her hand. "On the boy's behalf, thank you. I don't know how you rescued him, but he and I are grateful." They shook hands. "And Harry. It's the real Potter who's the Chosen One. Not you."

"My mistake," Draco said, still grinning. He turned and apparated away.

* * *

It was raining again. Draco had followed several other false leads, none of them ever nearly as harrowing as that first one. Mostly, he flew from one place to another and either talked to people or just watched. He had spent most of his summer as an owl. For days on end he would change only to eat or to sleep. He was tired, frustrated, and wet. As a last resort, he had taken to sitting in a tree in Grimauld Place. It was the last clue he had and nothing was coming of it. For now, he had taken shelter as a human underneath an overhang in an alley, hoping to get some rest.

"Mister Malfoy?"

Draco was startled from his sleep as he looked up at who was calling him.

"Professor Dumbledore?"

"Ah. You remember me. You are a difficult person to find."

"I've been looking for someone."

"I've been told. I've looked into the matter myself, Mister Malfoy, and I have some information for you. Malcolm has been found, and he is quite safe if somewhat embarrassed. I fear your particular search has been in vain."

Draco stood up, ignoring the greasy wetness rolling off his hair and down the back of his neck. He was too tired to cry, yell or anything else.

"Do you know where he is?"

"He is now at home with his parents, and preparing to return to Hogwarts for another year. And before you ask, I've had many things to do and I can only afford to spend a little more time with you. But I will tell you that his formal expulsion has been rescinded." Dumbledore gave Draco an understanding smile. "Go home, Mister Malfoy. Tomorrow is already September First."

Bitterness was in Draco's voice. "I don't want to go home."

"Neither does Reese."

"You know?"

"And about Louis as well. I had to find out why you were looking for Malcolm when he was already at home, as were you. And you should go home, Draco. Your mother is worried about you. Very worried."

"Yeah, right."

"She would never dare ask me anything, but she did ask Professor Snape for help, for you. She knows the rumours about him, and knows he has my ear. For her sake, I wish I could have come earlier."

"She asked . . . " Draco was surprised. His mother had never expressed any feelings.

_Dang. It's those stupid morals Malcolm warned me about. It's not that she doesn't care. She just doesn't know how to get through to me. I'm a stupid spoiled brat. And even worse . . . Dang. Dang. Dang. I hate it when I think like Malcolm._

Draco wiped the rain from out of his eye. "Yeah. But I do have to make one stop first. I should let Mister Winter know personally. Uh, You know about him?"

Dumbledore smiled. "The American government has given him the task of keeping Malcolm out of trouble. Failing that, he is to try to at least keep him out of the country."

Draco had to laugh, and it made him feel good. For a fleeting second, he actually felt respect for the man. He made a mental note that it was probably because he was still Malcolm.

* * *

David Winter sighed. He had just finished talking to Greaser, again. He had made a deal, and it was a good one. The conditional clean slate. No record of anything as long as he didn't do anything else. While Malcolm was still missing, David had another card to offer. That obnoxious brat, Louis, could spend a semester at Hogwarts. It would be an experience that any parent would love for their child. It would be like asking a muggle if they would like their son or daughter to spend a semester at Eton or Oxford. Malcolm was now home, but Lois convinced him to do this for Louis She convinced him by admitted that Greaser had asked her. David had barely returned to his apartment when an owl showed up at his windowsill.

An hour later. He looked up as Malcolm walked down the steps. The boy was fresh out of the shower and wearing a clean bathrobe. He looked a little thin but none the worse for wear. David took out his wand and pointed.

"Finite Incantatum. Feel better now."

"Nooo. Being Malcolm for so long has me feeling guilty. Mister Winter, do you think I could have been wrong about my mother?"

"The thought has crossed my mind. You did paint an extremely dark picture of her."

"Yeah, I guess I did . . . I should go home."

"You'll miss the train if you don't dress and go directly to King's Cross. Then Reese will have to take the train in your place."

Draco grinned mischievously. "In that case, I'll take my time dressing. That will give mother time enough to return to the Manor."

* * *

Draco cringed inwardly when he heard the popping noise that meant that his mother had returned to Malfoy Manor. He thought of all the ways he could approach her. With a cavalier attitude. As the prodigal son. As the dutiful son who misunderstood. He stood waiting as Narcissa Malfoy walked into the study.

"Draco?"

She walked up to him until they were only two feet apart. He was tall enough now that they stood almost face to face. For a minute, neither of them said anything. Then Draco suddenly stepped forward and hugged his mother.

Narcissa was stunned. Draco was crying. She returned his hug. And she would hold him as long as he needed. She could do nothing else. She was his mother and she loved him. She could do nothing less.


	11. The Prodigal Owl

A/N: As always apologetic, I forgot something. For those of you who do not remember, or did not know, Louis' name is pronounced as though it is spelled Louie (As in Lewis Armstrong as opposed to C.S. Lewis). I even envision a possible chapter in the next story where he and Dewey find themselves on an Air Force base and commandeer a helicopter. For those of you who are groaning, the answer is yes, it will be a HUEY.

A note to Mandraco, no review is ever useless. Except for the ones you don't like.

And a thanks to Phoenix Skyborne for reminding me of that episode. It reinforces the episode where Dewey tries to convince Malcolm and Reese that Mom treats him better because he behaves. They don't believe him and end up arguing over what the real reason is.

And thanks to everyone else for reading, and reviewing.

**CHAPTER 11: THE PRODIGAL OWL**

The doctor examined Gabrielle's owl. The owl, while annoyed, let the doctor examine him thoroughly because Gabrielle told him to. And when the doctor pronounced him completely healed of his head injury, the owl quickly flew to his perch.

"Janus, sil vous plait" Gabrielle called and held out her arm. "You are better, no? Then you must listen to me. You are not Malcolm's owl. You are Malcolm."

The owl blinked it's eyes. Then it stared.

_In case you're wondering, I'm feeling really stupid right now._

Finally it flew to the floor and transformed.

"Gabrielle, I'm sor-"

Gabrielle kissed him. "Now you are better. Your mother knows what happened and did not worry. And you will stay for a while to make sure you have recovered completely."

'_owever much 'e wonderz, I will never tell him I know 'ow it 'appened._

"Mon pere insiste pour que ju restes tout le weekend."

"Stay 'til the weekend?"

_Let's see? This is Sunday? That means . . ._

Malcolm's smile was big enough for two people.

"An 'ead injury iz no small matter,"

"Well, if I have to? What should we do first?"

Gabrielle smiled. "You will take a bath. You 'ave been an owl for quite a while."

* * *

Lois had just finished talking into the fireplace when Hal and the boys returned. "How was your trip."

It was great, Mom," Nob gushed. "I never thought a museum could be so cool."

"Yeah," Dewey added. "It's Dad's fault. He kept saying we should find out what we were looking at."

"Honey, you should have come with us. They even had a bathroom exhibit, with three hundred different types of paper."

Lois looked at her other son. "And Louis, what did you think?"

"Yeah, it was . . ." His smile melted away. "You called me Louis."

"You knew?" Dewey asked.

"Yup," Lois acknowledged. "And I think it's wonderful that you boys went through all this trouble to keep me from worrying."

"So Malcolm's finally back to normal?" Hal asked and Lois nodded.

"You knew, too?" Louis asked. "Then why did you pretend?"

Lois looked at him with a grin. "Your dad was busy anyway. He managed to finally get himself into trouble, so we agreed to take care of you for a few weeks."

"My old man knows you know? Then why didn't any of youse say anything."

"Hah. You wouldn't have stayed here for one minute if we told you. And yes, we even know how Greaser got into trouble. You can consider this your punishment."

Louis frowned. "I guess that means I should leave now."

"No. You're going to help set the table. And then we're going to eat. And you're still stuck here for the rest of the week, so you're going with us to that carnival tomorrow. By the way, if you'd rather go home, your father said to let you know he's working late. You really messed him up good."

"I - I'd like to stay."

"Then get going. I need that table set. GO, GO, GO. If it's not set in five minutes, you're all going to eat with your hands."

* * *

"Albus, thank you for seeing me," David Winter said as he greeted the headmaster.

"A beautiful house," Albus Dumbledore said as he looked around. "I fear I must be honest and tell you. I liked its look better when Malcolm's family lived here. I was never afraid to touch anything."

David smiled at the reference to his collection of miniature statues that filled the shelves along one wall of the living room."

"It's the advantage of having all your children grown up and on their own. Twenty years ago, I would never have dared display one of these figurines, unless I really hated it."

"David, my time is short and I must bring this meeting to its point. Your request must be refused. With Malcom returning, there are no excuses to be made. Nor does Hogwarts accept new students over the age of eleven. There have been circumstances in the past where students have transferred from other schools, but this is clearly not the case."

David nodded. "I was hoping. I've told you about the father, and what the man has been involved in. The father is willing to help if we can help his son." He sighed. "I will have to inform him that we can't help."

Albus grasped his friend's hand in appreciation. "How delightfully maudlin, David. But regardless of how dramatic you act, I will not yield on this point. However." Albus paused to watch David's reaction. "We have recently started a new tradition. One of our students took part in an exchange program over the summer. To accept the boy into the school in such a manner will not be against precedent."

"For how long?" David asked cautiously.

"As the boy has no school, per se, we will use the time length defined by previous cases. Two months, to visit and learn the difference between a professional school and home schooling."

"Previous cases? I thought their was only one?"

"And he spent the two months of his summer holiday."

"So I can tell Louis he has until?"

"Halloween. He may join us for the feast but he must leave no later than the next day."

David nodded. "It does give me a breathing spell."

Albus smiled again. "His last name is Renault. He is of French decent, if I am correct?"

This time David smiled. He knew the point Dumbledore was making. There was a certain French school. He also knew a young man who had a girlfriend at that school and who had captured the heart of the headmistress. And David had two months to work something out.

Albus, knowing he need stay no longer, bid his friend goodbye and apparated away. It was then, for a brief moment, that David noticed the headmaster's hand, blackened as though burned. It was a brief glance, and he knew it would be a while before he could ask Albus what had happened.

Dismissing the matter until he could do something about it. He turned back to his current problem. He would write an introductory letter to Madame Maxime. He would also send an inquiry to the French Ministry concerning one Henry Renault AKA Greaser AKA Henri Renault. It would be interesting to know about his family.

* * *

It was Friday evening and Malcolm stood in front of the fireplace with Gabrielle.

"Thank you. For everything. For taking care of me. And for not telling anyone how it happened."

Gabrielle grinned. "I did not even tell you."

"I wouldn't have listened anyway. You know how hardheaded I am."

"Mother 'eard you 'it the wall from all ze way down 'ere."

"It is time," Madame Delacour said.

Gabrielle kissed Malcolm goodbye as Monsieur Delacour threw the floo powder into the fireplace. Malcolm turned, said the name of his home, and stepped into the green flames. In a very short time he stepped out of the fireplace in his own living room. Dewey was there, frowning.

"You came back."

"Sorry to disappoint you, you little jerk."

Nob heard the noise and looked in from the kitchen. His face dropped as he turned back. "He's here."

"What's with you two," Malcolm demanded. "You act like it would have been better if I stayed away."

"It was better while you were away," Dewey scowled. "We were a normal family."

"Oh yeah, you and Nob were adorable children the entire time."

"We all were. Even you."

Malcolm frowned. "But I wasn't here."

"Promise you'll come back," Nob said tearfully as he walked with Louis out of the kitchen.

"Is Sunday soon enough?. I'll be comin' by to see Dewey off." Louis knelt down and hugged Nob. "Be good for Mom and Dad, okay?"

_Mom and Dad?_

"I promise," Nob said through his tears.

"And I'll be by real early to say goodbye." Louis let go of Nob and turned to Dewey. "Bright and early, My Man. Wait for me."

"You got it," Dewey said, and high-fived him as he walked past.

Louis walked to the front door, then turned back and waved goodby to Lois and Hal, showing them that he remembered his poster. Before he left, he said to Malcolm, "Hey, Bird Boy, you have one heck of a family. I had a great time."

Louis walked out the door and he was gone.

_What was that all about?_

"Mom? What's going on?"

"Louis took your place while you were gone. You know, it was a real treat having a responsible son for once. He mowed the backyard when I told him to. No arguments. No complaints." She looked at Nob. "No stories about strange things growing back there."

"Great. So he was stupid enough to mow the lawn."

"He taught me how to play catch," Nob said.

"And he was dumb enough to play with you?" Malcolm was surprised. "Mom, would you really like me better if I was stupid?"

Lois laughed and turned away. "That must be a trick question."

_I don't get it. Why's everybody so happy that Louis was nice to them? On the other hand, I know what Louis is like. He must have gotten something out of this._

Hal walked over to Malcolm. "Welcome back, son. And I mean that. It was nice having Louis around, but YOU are still our son. How was France?"

"Okay. I spent most of my time as an owl. I didn't get to see much. Except when Gabrielle let me out of my cage at night, but then I was to busy hunting for food to look around." Malcolm paused. "Dad, Louis said he was coming back Sunday to say goodbye?"

"Yeah. And you, too. Your Mom talked to the principal or whoever and they're letting you go back."

_Mais, que je suis Bete. I wasted all that time learning French._

"So why is Louis going to stop by?"

"He's going with you, Son. Part of some exchange program. That's what David said."

"Mister Winter's involved in this?"

Hal nodded. "It was his idea."

_Wait a minute._

"Dad, if Louis's going to Hogwarts with us, then why did he tell Nob he was coming by to say goodbye to Dewey?"

Hal shrugged. "I guess no one told him yet."

* * *

"What?"

Greaser looked at his son.

"You're spending the rest of the year at Hogwarts. We made a deal."

"But Malcolm came back. I'm off the hook."

"You're not thinking. When you get older, you get bragging rights. You spent a semester at Hogwarts. It was nice. Tells people you're smarter than they think. Even if you ain't."

"Pop. NO. I don't want to go."

Greaser became angry. "Do you know what your big mouth cost me? Three hardcore connections to people with interesting things that lack the proper documentation for legal import. THREE. Well, two. Fletcher talks big but that bike was the only decent thing he ever came up with."

Louis tried to hide his surprise. He thought Fletcher was one of the bad ones. He could have called that fed's bluff and gotten away with it. All of this WAS his fault.

"Sorry, Pop. I goofed big this time."

"There's good in everything, Louis. Like I told you. This Hogwarts deal can be a good thing. I get to name drop. Impress the customers. Makes me look honest. I even got them to send me a letter that I can hang up in the shop as proof."

Louis tried to smile. "I guess if it means that much to you, I'll go."

"You'll go anyway. There're other reasons. I can't be as loose with my books as I used to and, because of that, I need to keep my new friends. And that bike, I think I can figure out the spell, it's a good one, and once I do that, then we're talkin'." His voice became a conspiratorial whisper. "I need my new friends to get a business permit to sell those new bikes. I'll make a fortune. That's why you're going."

Louis was impressed. His old man had taken a bad situation and turned it around, almost. And because he was the one who caused all the problems in the first place, Louis would do whatever he had to, and not complain . . . while Pop was in hearing distance.

Greaser watched as his son walked away? "Louis."

The boy stopped and looked back. "Pop?"

Greaser walked up to him. "Things ain't so great right now. That stuff you've been hearin' about. Well, some of the people I used to know ain't as nice as they used to be, if you catch my drift. You're safer at that school than you would be if you stayed here. That's also why you're goin'. That's why you spent all those weeks with those people, away from me."

Louis was unsure how to act. "It's, uh, yeah, um, it's cool."

Greaser smiled. "You know, I don't remember the last time we went out for a pizza. You interested. We could talk. About how you spent your summer vacation."

Louis nodded. "Yeah, Pop, that would be real cool."

"Let me get cleaned up while you run over to Johnny's place. I think you'll want to say goodbye to your friends."

Louis looked surprised. He was a loner. He always did for himself. It was Malcolm who had friends. "Uh, yeah, Pop, sure."

"Louis, I know what you're thinking. They only like you because you were pretending to be someone else." Greaser leaned down to look his son in the eye. "Maybe you were pretending to be who you wanted to be. Maybe's that who you would have been all along if I paid more attention to you."

"POP, I just wanted to be cool. Like you."

Greaser nodded and smiled. "Talk to your friends. Tell them goodbye. That's what a guy's who's really cool would do."

Reluctantly, Louis made the not-long journey to where Johnny lived with Dabney.

* * *

"You're going to school?" Johnny was laughing at him.

"Hey. It's a great school. It's a chance any other kid would die for. And THEY asked ME to go."

"Get your stuff yet?"

"First thing in the AM, Day after tomorrow. I'm going with Dewey. We'll hit Diagon Alley, then race for the train." Louis frowned. "That'll be lots of fun."

"Hey, Louis. I know yer old man is tight, what with what's goin' down."

"Yeah. I heard you lost your meal ticket, too."

"Um . . . yeah. But not before other things came through."

"People are buying?"

Johnny nodded. "You know how to sell, Louis. You can spot the soft spot in any customer You made me a few good sales."

"Glad I could help. I learned it all from my old man, ya know."

"And how is he?" Johnny asked seriously.

Louis shuffled his feet. "I screwed up bad. Fed's are watching him all the time. An' they're bringin' in some numbers guys to check out the books. An' it's my fault."

"And I lucked out," Johnny noted. "I'll squeeze by but I'll make it. I got a good gig. Hey, dude, ask your old man something for me. I need a salesman. I can only pay commission, and then only when I get payed. It could turn into something."

Louis nodded. He thought coming over to see Johnny would help his mood. It just made him realize how bad things were. "I'll talk to him."

Johnny gave him a smile and handed him a small pouch. "Here."

Louis looked at the pouch. "I don't take handouts."

"It's a hundred Galleons. It's an advance against commissions. I told you. I made some good deals because of you."

"A HUNDRED GALLEONS? That's like a thousand bucks."

Johnny laughed at Louis's wide eyes. "You think that's a lot of money, dude? Wait'll you start spending it. If you need more, let me know."

"Thanks."

"MALCOLM!" Dabney called out from the doorway of his bedroom. He called back into the room. "MALCOLM"S HERE."

"Dabney," Louis called. "I just . . ."

A dozen people came out of Dabney's bedroom and crowded around their friend.

"Have a great year," Belinda said as she gave him a peck on the cheek. Louis noticed she was holding Lloyd's hand and it didn't seem forced.

Eraserhead came up and they high-fived, except Eraserhead missed. "I'll miss having you around, Malcolm. You were a great sounding board."

"Thanks, Kyle. You were coming up with some great ideas."

Dabney was next. "I did it. I followed your advice on how to talk to people. You know. Assume they want to buy something. And it worked. I am actually ABLE to take purchase orders."

"It's attitude," Louis reminded him. "People pick up on it. Keep it up."

Stevie was there as well. "We . . . should . . . tell him."

"Tell who," Louis asked.

"When . . . I heard . . . about . . . you know . . . I . . . told them."

Johnny put his hand on his shoulder. "Yeah, Dude. And we set up a surprise for you. We're gonna have a party."

Louis grinned in surprise, then frowned. "Johnny. My old man. We were gonna do somethin'."

"Yeah, we know. That's why we got pizza. He told me he'd be by in a few."

"Oh." Louis put on his best fake smile. Pop never planned on it being just the two of them. But Louis would make it a point to have a good time anyway. Then his smile became real. He would have a good time with his friends.

* * *

It was late, and Louis was tired. His father walked him home.

"Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah," Louis mumbled.

"Better than hangin' around with an old guy like me?"

Louis looked up. There was sadness in his voice. "No."

Greaser nodded. "I guess I goofed again. I been doin' that a lot."

"It's okay."

"Louis?"

The boy stopped when he noticed his father had.

"What is it?"

"I never thought you'd want to spend time with just me, instead of your friends."

Louis smiled at the honesty. "You're my Pop." The moment was lost when he yawned.

"Let's get you to bed," Greaser told him. "I got a busy day tomorrow. But I'll try and squeeze some time in."

Louis smiled his thanks but knew it wouldn't happen. It never did.


	12. Back To School

A/N: Today is Sunday. I must (actually I don't have to) apologize for not posting a chapter yesterday but my server decided it would be fun not to recognize any passwords. Clearly, this problem is corrected.

I should also point out that I get up at 5:23 local time and try to post the next chapter by 6:00. If my notes seem a bit scattered, it's because I'm not awake yet. If my stories seem a bit scattered, it's because I'm trying to be artistic and it's not working out. For example, I can't decide if I should apologize about being too sappy or having too much angst or even if I should comment on it. Instead, I'm taking Mandraco's suggestion from the last time I missed a day. I will also be posting chapter 13. I should also apologize to Mandraco for doing this because, if I remember correctly, it is already Monday in Australia. (Sorry about that.)

Anyway, It's 6:10 and I need to get posting.

**Chapter 12: Back to School**

Lois was the only one who was smiling. "Look at al the happy faces. Everyone so eager to go back to school."

"Mooom," Dewey complained. "I have to go to school with Malcolm."

"Should I complain?" Louis asked snidely.

"Waste of time," Malcolm said dispassionately. "She'll make us go, anyway."

"It's your fault," Louis said accusingly. "If you didn't run off to visit your girlfriend, I'd still be at home."

"Right. Like I deliberately planned to have a head injury."

"Maybe you did. I heard you spent every night in SUGAR PLUM'S BEDROOM."

"IN A CAGE, YOU MORON. I WAS AN OWL."

"I WAS ABLE TO DO WHATEVER I WANTED."

"I HAD TO HUNT FOR MY OWN FOOD."

"AND I GET TO GO TO YOUR STUPID SCHOOL JUST TO KEEP MY OLD MAN OUT OF JAIL."

"BIG DEAL. I LEARNED HOW TO TELL THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A VOLE AND A DORMOUSE SIMPLY BY TASTE."

_That's something no fourteen-year-old should have to admit._

"You can?" Louis asked, a grimace coming across his face. Nob cringed at the thought, while Dewey looked repulsed. "That is kinda disgusting."

"If you boys are done fighting," Lois said insistently. "You have two hours to do your shopping and catch your train. Now get going."

Malcolm threw the floo powder into the fireplace. "Diagon Alley."

* * *

"Good. All three of you are here." David Winter grinned appropriately at the three newest arrivals to the Leaky Cauldron. He turned to the only other person in the place. "Tom, thank you for your time."

"Yer Welcome," Tom said with a desperate politeness. "And we're open for lunch if you'll be staying in town."

"Um," David said hesitantly. "If I can. I'm due to meet the new Minister after I see the boys off . . ."

Tom nodded sadly. "I understand, Sir. What with things the way things are."

"Quickly, boys," David said with undue necessity as he ushered them out the back door. Being the only customer in the Leaky Cauldron had been a trying experience.

Dewey said it first. "This place is almost deserted."

"You-Know-Who has been busy. In case you didn't know." David hurried the boys to Madam Malkins. "Let's get your robes first. I'll get your books while you're being fitted. Tight schedule, you know."

_This is scarier than when You-Know-Who showed up in my backyard. Did you ever have the dream where everyone disappeared. This comes close._

Madam Malkin took the boys and rushed them onto the stools. "I hope I can finish all three of you in time."

_Hey, I'm out of here._

"Ma'am. Louis and I are the same size, so just measure him and double the order. Guys, I'll go get what we need from the apothecary."

"He ditched us again," Dewey told Louis as Malcolm ran out of the shop, waved away by a grateful Madam Malkin.

Sneaking past the bookstore, Malcolm quickly found the store he was looking for. It was, in fact, the only store that seemed to have any people in it. With a feeling of accomplishment, he opened the door to enter Weasley Wizarding Wheezes.

"Don't," a familiar voice said as a hand pulled Malcolm backward. He was spun around, and found himself walking down the street with Draco Malfoy's arm across his shoulders.

"Cousin, please don't tell me you were going to visit the enemy?"

"The enemy DOES own a joke shop, Draco."

Draco grinned. "Good point. I'll forgive you. But I need to talk to you about something important before I let you continue with your wayward habits."

Malcolm looked annoyed. "What is it? And hurry up. I have a train to catch and so do you."

"Don't worry, Malcolm. We have plenty of time. But I need to ask you about your experiences while there is no one about who can eavesdrop. I've become involved in something important since our last meeting."

_I've never seen Draco so serious. Something must have happened._

"Sure. I'll do anything for you. Name it."

Draco smiled with delight. "Exactly the answer I expected. Malcolm. A hypothetical situation. The spell on an object has, um, gone bad and no longer interacts with other objects the way it should. Is it possible to repair the spell, or can the spell be recast without harming the object?"

Malcolm frowned. "You're not talking about a watch or something, are you?"

_He did something to screw up Dabney's bedroom. I know he did._

"Accurate, as usual," Draco answered.

"And it is linked to something else?"

Draco's smile widened.

_He DID do something to screw up Dabney's bedroom._

Malcolm looked worried. "If you recast the spell, you have to recast the link. So it's actually a new link. You'll need to repair the spell. DRACO, WHAT DID YOU DO TO DABNEY'S BEDROOM?"

"Nothing," Draco said with surprise and honesty. "It has been quite some time since I've even seen your friend. This is another matter altogether."

_It's cool. He screwed up something of his Dad's._

"Sorry I snapped."

"Forgiven. And how do I best repair a spell?"

"It's easy once you know how the spell is malfunctioning. You simply cast an Inclusion spell which contains a description of that portion of the original spell that isn't working. But if you picked the wrong problem to fix, your spell is squilched."

Draco smiled. "So, knowing the problem is the solution. At least I now understand what that mumbling lowbrain was talking about."

Draco turned them around and they began to walk back to the joke shop. "You should know, Malcolm, the summer has been dull since you stopped coming by. Your mother said you were taken ill."

"I hurt my head. I spent most of my summer as an owl."

Draco smiled. "And you never flew to see me even once. I suppose I must forgive you again. Oh. I did have one bit of excitement. I ran into Potty and the Weasel the other day while I was getting my robes. It was wonderful. I was suitably angry that they showed while I was there with Mother. Do you know, they drew their wands and threatened us. But I held my head high, with shoulders out," he laughed, "and all but knocked the Weasel on his arse as I forced my way past them. It was quite impressive. Everyone felt THEY were the young thugs they truly are. But enough of that. Buy your gifts and gags and I'll meet you on the train."

Draco let go as they came up on the Weasley's shop.

"Forgive me for not going in with you. I don't think they would appreciate my business." He took Malcolm's hand and whispered, "but if you could get me some Peruvian darkness powder I would be forever grateful."

"Sure," Malcolm said and watched Draco walk away. He looked in his hand and saw five Galleons. Looking up in appreciation, he was just in time to see Draco turn down Knockturn Alley.

_Something must have happened while I was gone. I'll have to catch up with Draco on the train._

Keeping his smile in place, Malcolm opened the door and entered Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

"Verity. May I help you?" asked a blond girl in magenta robes.

Malcolm paused. "Shouldn't that be 'Verily, may I help you'?"

The girl frowned. "Is your name Verily? And how would I know your name anyway?"

"Noooo. My name's Malcolm. And you don't know me. At least, I don't know you."

The girl rolled her eyes. "It's Verity. I told you that when you walked in."

"When you asked if you could help me?"

"LOOK, YOU JERK, IT'S MY JOB. BUY SOMETHING OR GET OUT?"

"Jeezel, you sure are touchy, lady. Some Peruvian darkness powder."

Verity glared at him. "That sounds like something you use a lot of. How many kilos do you want?"

"Verity," George said as he walked up. "Why don't you take a short break. I'll take care of Malcolm. He's a family friend."

"Sorry I yelled, Mister Weasley."

"Malcolm has that effect on people, Verity. It's quite all right."

As the girl walked away, Malcolm sneered. "George, tell her to start out with a full sentence, such as 'My name is . . ."

"I will talk to her. Malcolm, shouldn't you be at King's Cross Station?"

"Yeah. We're doing some last minute shopping."

George smiled knowingly. "And your friend?" He nodded his head toward the door.

"He knows you don't like him."

George laughed. "Nonsense. As long as he's friend's with . . . you, we still have hope for him."

Malcolm gaped. "You know about him and . . . me?"

"Obviously. Somebody still has his ring, and a certain magazine, and . . . other things."

"Cool. I'll tell him."

"No," George quickly cautioned. "He might relax his guard. Ans we don't want Ron to find out. Unless Fred and I are there to watch. And time is short. What do you need?"

"Peruvian darkness powder. Something which explodes, preferably with a long fuse, and . . . do you have any tickle spiders?"

"Try Zonko's Joke Shop in Hogsmeade for that one. How much are you spending?"

"Five Galleons."

"I'll fix you. Give me a minute."

"Thanks."

_Right now I'd normally say something like "I should have just enough time to get back to Madam Malkin's before Mister Winter gets back there," I mean, I could still say it, but Mister Winter just walked in the door._

"Verity. May I help you," the blond girl in magenta robes said to David Winter.

David frowned. "Shouldn't that be 'Verily, may I help you."

Verity pointed at Malcolm. "You must be with him."

"Thank you," David said politely and walked over to Malcolm. "I knew stopping here was a good idea. How did you get away from Madam Malkin?"

"Louis. He's being measured for both of us."

David nodded approvingly. "You haven't lost your touch." He pointed at the young red-haired man who was approaching. "Which one is that?"

"Fred. It has to be because George is picking out some stuff for me. Five Galleons worth."

David arched an eyebrow. "And where . . ."

"Draco."

"Ahhh. The prodigal son."

"Malcolm, and you're David Winter?"

"Yes, and you must be Fred."

Fred smiled. "And it's already close to eleven. I know you're in a hurry."

David nodded. "I'll make it easy. Your brother is getting Malcolm Five Galleons worth of . . . fun. Could I get the same?"

Fred laughed. "And I'll even give you the same price. GEORGE, DOUBLE THE ORDER."

George nodded from the other end of the shop and began waving his wand. A box flew toward him as well as a dozen or so items which flew into the box.

"Business is good?" David asked while they waited.

"Better than you would expect. I saw you here and I thought I'd give you a gift." He turned around. "Accio boxes." Two boxes flew up and floated beside him. "I know my dad told you about our hats. A specialty item. He asked us to pass one on." He gave one box to David and the other to Malcolm.

"Fred." Malcolm asked. "Why are you giving me a hat?"

"Hallowe'en. So you'll look good for that girlfriend of yours. Trust me. You'll like it."

Malcolm peeked into the box to look at the hat. He missed the wink that Fred gave David, as well as the grateful look that David gave in return with a nod toward his young charge.

"Fred, does this hat make me look stupid or something?"

"That's a matter of taste. But if you're dressed properly, it's the finishing touch."

"But what's the joke? Or are you trying to tell me it's just a hat?"

_Wow. That is a cool joke. A hat that's just a hat. And all I have to do for fun is tell people where I got it. It'll go great with my idiot stick._

"Thanks, Fred."

"My pleasure, Malcolm. And here comes George with your boxes." He took five Galleons each from Malcolm and David. "And if I might recommend running, you do have a train to catch."

* * *

"You're not mad?" Malcolm asked as they walked briskly back to Madam Malkins Robe Shop.

"Because you did what was expected? I counted on it. I planned on stopping by there myself, but it pays to shop with someone who knows the owners. You should know that my granddaughter will be eternally grateful, and my son and his wife will hate me forever. But now we have to rush."

"We just passed Madam Malkins."

"Everyone else is already in the car to go to King's Cross Station."

_Okay. Time to think it out. Go to get robes. Not surprised at finding me. Specialty items. Bingo._

"Mister Winter. What would you have done if I didn't show up at Fred and George's store? Would you have given me the hat as a belated birthday gift?"

"It took you this long to figure it out?"

"I didn't start thinking about it until we passed by the robes place."

David nodded. They were now three shops away from Madam Malkin's. Malcolm figured out the ruse in less than a minute. "Did you figure out the hat?"

"Only that I should wear it whenever I leave the school grounds. Should I wear it now."

David smiled. "I think it's safe enough."

_I was right. It's got a built-in shielding spell._

Malcolm frowned. He just realized that the joke hat was no joke at all.

* * *

"He does this all the time," Dewey said as they waited. "You were a much better Malcolm."

"I thought it was for real. At least that your folks thought it was for real."

"It was. And you taught me something. I would hane never believed my folks would be that nice to me just for being good. I'm gonna do that more often."

Louis sighed. "Still doesn't make me feel any better. I'm off to another summer camp."

Dewey nodded. "I should warn you. They'll probably put you in Gryffindor when we get to the school. You'll be in Malcolm's dorm."

"Great. Is that because I look like him?"

"No. It's because they've got a spare bed. One of Malcolm's friends left school last year and never came back."

Louis cringed. "Because of You-Know-Who?"

Dewey shrugged. "Not really. He fell through a time warp and ended up being my Great-Grandfather. Go figure."

"Oh. That makes sense," Louis said in a clearly confused voice."

The door opened and Malcolm was ushered in.

"What's that?" Dewey asked as Malcolm sat down carrying two boxes.

"Good news, boys," David Winter said as he stuck his head in the door. "We had time to make an extra stop."

Malcolm showed his box to Dewey.

"Compliments of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes."

"You three should have a lot of fun," David commented. "If you can get them past Argus Filch and the Aurors. They'll be watching everyone closely."

Dewey's face was a mixture of anger and jealousy. David smiled inwardly. This would be easier than he thought. Although he would have to go back to the Weasley shop.

"And I brought you a going away present."

David handed his box to Dewey. Dewey looked up in surprise.

"You're giving me this?"

Malcolm looked up. "What about your granddaughter?"

"She'll survive. But I felt I had to do something for a good friend of mine."

Everyone looked at David Winter. "You like Dewey?" Malcolm asked.

"No, Malcolm. I was talking about your driver. Now he won't have to listen to the two of you bickering because one of you has something special and the other one doesn't."

"And I do appreciate it, Dave," The driver said.

David smiled as he closed the door and waved away the driver and three scowling students. He had muddied the situation enough that Malcolm might fail to think about one important piece to the puzzle. Why did he need a hat? Why would he need protection from an assault by the enemy when he was supposedly one of them.

Voldemort was a spider, and did not care about those trapped in his web, either friend or foe. He was angry at Lucius Malfoy and it was rumored that there was a plot against his wife and son. The only other relatives where a loyal sister-in-law and a certain American family. Malcolm was the obvious first target if Voldemort's anger extended that far. And it probably would. Even David knew Malcolm's potential if he ever found a purpose in life. Revenge was a strong purpose.

* * *

As the Ministry car sped to Kings Cross Station, Malcolm and Dewey frowned at each other. Finally, Malcolm spoke. "Okay. I'll stuff my pockets and fly everything up to the school."

"Thanks. Dewey responded. "Let's get a compartment and check out what we've got." He looked at Louis. "We split everything three ways. Okay?"

"Can't." Malcolm told him. "Draco gave me the money to buy this stuff."

"You saw Draco?"

"Outside of the joke shop. He's doing some last minute shopping, too. It seems something came up while I was gone."

Dewey frowned. "He went to try and find you when we thought you were lost. I never heard anything."

Malcolm added thoughtfully. "We can catch up with him on the train. And about this stuff?"

Dewey nodded. "Okay. Four ways."


	13. Kings Cross And The Hogwarts Express

**Chapter 13: King's Cross and the Hogwarts Express**

Anthony looked at the clock. It was five minutes before 11 o'clock. The train was waiting, and so were Billy and his goons. They heard that Reese wouldn't be coming back and were prepared to redeem themselves in their own eyes. Billy remembered Anthony. The fact that Anthony was almost a foot taller than last year, however, was offset by the fact that he was outnumbered four to one.

Billy stood at the window of the train looking out, daring Anthony to come on board. Anthony took a step back. "Ooof. Ow. What?"

Euan Abercrombie was standing there with Matthew Zeller. And "there" was Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

"Problem solved," Euan said enthusiastically.

"What problem?" Anthony said angrily as he straightened out his school jacket.

Matthew snorted. "The Bully On The Train Problem. We saw him watching you. You told us about him last year. So we thought of the perfect solution. And that step backward that you took made it even easier."

Anthony followed their gaze to the Hogwarts Express. "You're joking," he said in surprise.

Euan grabbed his hand. "That's how you got there last year. Or you could get back on your own train."

"I'm in. But my trunk . . ."

"Is here," Rose Zeller called out from behind them. "And could you move. You're holding everyone up."

"To the train," Matthew Zeller called out, and led the way. They would find a compartment, and a couple more friends, and spend the rest of the trip talking about "How I Spent The Summer Holiday".

* * *

"What?" Bill the Bully stared out the window of the train. That boy, Anthony, had disappeared. He turned to his friends. "I owe him from last year and I don't want him to get away."

"He must have snuck onboard the train," one of his cronies said.

"You go that way, and the two of you go the other way," Bill said with authority. "He's on this train or almost. We'll hunt him down."

Bill opened the compartment door and stepped out onto the platform. That runt couldn't have disappeared that fast. He looked up and down the platform, not seeing his quarry at all. (Curiously, nor did he see the red-haired family usher their children and friends onto the secret platform.) Disgusted, he turned to get back on the train.

"Hold on," the platform guard said. "That train's already sounded its whistle."

"I can still hop on."

The guard grabbed him firmly. "Not on my watch. Last year, one of those school children fell off the train, Miracle the little lad wasn't hurt. But safety regulations are strict. You don't get on once the train sounds it's whistle. And you don't open the door on a moving train, regardless of how fast the train is going. Understand."

Bill tried his last ounce of reason. "But I just got off the train. I need to get to school."

The guard eyed the boy's jacket. "Foolish on your part. Should have stayed where you were. But don't worry. We'll get you on the next train. Be here at 3 o'clock sharp."

Bill was stunned. "But . . . But that's four hours? The local buses won't be running by the time I get there, and it's ten miles to the school."

The guard shrugged. "Then you're in for a good healthy walk. Serves you right for not being able to sit still for five minutes." The guard walked away but turned back. "3 o'clock. Sharp."

Bill cursed for a bit then decided to buy some lunch. Then he stopped. Mummy had insisted he put his wallet in his trunk so he doesn't lose it. His trunk was on the train. Bill cursed some more.

* * *

The two boys watched the scene from their vantage point.

"Edwin," the first boy said in an American accent. "Did you see that. That was the boy from last year."

Edwin, dressed as a traditional English schoolboy of a few decades past, nodded his head. "He's grown quite a bit, I must say. It seems he made friends."

"But he was getting on the other train, and his friend's dragged him onto the wizards platform."

"Charles, there was a bully involved. His friends helped him."

Charles nodded, his eyes said. He remembered when he was cornered by some bullies. There was no one to help him. "He's lucky."

Edwin couldn't help but smile. In this case, the bully received exactly what he deserved. He was still smiling when Bill the Bully walked by him. Both he and Charles were laughing when Bill tripped over an invisible foot.

After Bill picked himself up and walked away. Charles turned back to watch the hidden entrance. "There's so much about magic that I don't understand. I never even knew about wizards until after I died."

"Lucky you," Edwin replied. He learned about magic by being the unwilling participant in a death ritual.

"I didn't mean it like that," Charles insisted. "Look, that's the blond kid from last year. The one that came off the train all hexed up. He looks a lot better."

Edwin smiled at the memory. "Who do you think will come next? The family of redheads have already gone. Do you think it will be that Yank and his brother?" Edwin smirked. "Or are you waiting to see that girl with the bushy hair that you're in love with? She was with the redheads."

"I'm not in love with her. And Hermione's almost too old for me now. I'm still thirteen and she must be at least sixteen."

Edwin looked at his friend in surprise. "You found out her name?"

"It wasn't hard. Her friends talk really loud."

The two boys paused in their conversation and went back to their annual tradition of watching the wizards head off to school.

* * *

Draco Malfoy walked into the compartment and sat down across from Crabbe and Goyle.

"I hope the two of you had an interesting summer."

Crabbe looked less than pleased. "We heard you went to the beach for the summer. Again."

"Weather was terrible. I visited relatives, then spent the summer consoling Mother. Among other things."

"Other things," Goyle asked snidely.

Draco smiled back. "Not those. We're talking about serious things. Important work. I'm going to be busy this year. And I need to know, right now, if I can count on your help."

Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other then turned back to Draco. "How important."

"If you say no, then I will leave this compartment to find someone who will help. I can't afford to be around people whom I can't trust to help me."

Goyle rubbed his chin. "This isn't about a girl, then?"

Draco laughed out loud. "If it were about a girl, then why would I want you around?"

After a short pause to think about it, the two friends laughed as well.

"We're in."

The door opened. Pansy Parkinson stood in the doorway, looking directly at Draco. "Can I join you? Or should we go somewhere else."

"Join us, love. They both agreed."

"You said they would," Pansy replied as she sat down next to Draco.

"And I was right."

"Are you right about what you told me? When I visited over the summer."

"Definitely."

Crabbe and Goyle watched in amazement as the two kissed. Their amazement turned to approval. This was a much better arrangement for Draco than that Gryffindor. And less embarrassing. Not that either boy ever said or would say anything about it.

But Gregory Goyle had to ask. "What did he tell you?"

Pansy turned to look at Greg. "He said he needed to be serious about someone, and the only one he could think of was me."

"Then he didn't mention anyone else?"

Pansy smirked. "He said there was someone once, but he couldn't remember her name."

"It must be," Draco drawled, "that whoever she was, she didn't mean anything. I was only having some fun until it became boring." He gave Pansy a quick kiss. "And now I'll never be bored again."

* * *

"Welcome to the Sleepy Hollow Ranch. How can I help you?"

The old woman looked at Francis through large glasses. "I can't find my glasses."

"Um, Ma'am," Francis said sheepishly. "Aren't you wearing them?"

"Not my reading glasses, you dimwit. My drinking glasses. I can't have my whiskey without proper shot glasses you know."

"Whiskey?"

"Damn straight. I didn't get to be 168 by staying sober, I can tell you that. Why don't you be a good little boy and go to the bar and grab me a few."

"Certainly, Ma'am." Francis began to walk away."

"And I'm in the mood for a good bottle of Scotch. Bring back a Single Malt, will ya?"

* * *

Ginny Weasley stopped to chat with some friends when she felt someone tap her shoulder. She turned around to find herself facing Harry Potter.

"Fancy trying to find a compartment?"

Without skipping a beat, Ginny smiled and told him. "I can't Harry. I said I'd meet Dean. See you later."

Harry gave a curt reply and turned away. Ginny excused herself and headed the other way as quickly as possible. She knew Draco would probably be somewhere in the next car. She would be meeting Dean, but that was more of a cover story for her, although Dean would rather it weren't.

Her timing was terrible. As she almost stepped up to the compartment, she heard Draco say, just loud enough to heard, "I was only having some fun until it became boring." She glanced in the compartment and saw Draco kissing Pansy Parkinson. She stared in surprise until the kiss broke and Draco added, "And now I'll never be bored again."

Ginny was only grateful that no one in the compartment looked up to see her standing there. She pushed her way through the crowd of students until she was in another car, then ducked into the first empty compartment. Too stunned to cry, she tried to think of any plausible explanation. But that did not last too long when she was interrupted.

"Hi," the boy said from the doorway as he opened it, "You're Ginny Weasley, aren't you? I don't know if you remember me. I'm Zacharias Smith. I'm in Hufflepuff."

"Hi."

"I was returning to my compartment and I noticed you were alone. Would you like to join my friends and I. We're in the next compartment."

"Thanks but no," Ginny said dismissively, "I'm waiting for someone."

"I'll be happy to wait with you if you like," Zacharias said as he sat down across from her, ignoring her annoyed look. "I don't want to be rude but I know how long time seems to pass when you're by yourself."

Ginny said nothing.

After an awkward pause, Zacharias added. "We've read about the Department of Mysteries. I suppose everyone has. The Daily Prophet said you were there with, you know, Harry Potter."

"The Daily Prophet was right."

"I was wondering, we all were, really, about what actually happened." He looked at Ginny expectantly.

Ginny smiled at him. "Well . . . I could tell you what happened but I think it would be more interesting to hear the whole story, from the beginning." She added frostily, "if you want to bother me to know."

Zacharias, in his anticipation of hearing the story, missed her tone of voice. "That would be wonderful."

"It started," Ginny said calmly, "when I happened to run into, of all people, Draco Malfoy. And do you know what I did?" Without waiting for a reply, she pulled out her wand and cast the Bat Bogey hex on him, almost laughing as he bumped into the door in his effort to flee the compartment.

Zacharias Smith disappeared quickly once the compartment door was slid open but the spot was filled at once by the stout figure of an old man.

"You cast that hex on the boy. Whatever for?"

Ginny cringed. This was completely unexpected. Her first thoughts were of what they might do at the school when they found out. Her second thought was that she was caught in the act so it didn't matter what she did.

"He was asking personal questions."

The man gave her a broad grin. "And you handled the situation marvelously. But I'm being rude." He extended his pudgy hand. "I'm Horace Slughorn, and once we arrive at the school I will be one of your teachers. Until then, please consider me a friend."

Ginny shook his hand as surprise and relief washed over her. Thank you, Professor. And I'm Ginny Weasley."

Slughorn looked around. "And you're here by yourself. Why don't you join me in my compartment? I've invited a few students to have lunch with me. You would be a welcome addition." He leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner. "And I promise you will eat better than if you bought your food from the trolley. Please say yes."

Ginny hesitated, then thought, 'why not'. It would be interesting and it might take her mind off of certain recent events. "I'd be delighted."

* * *

"This is some cool stuff," Dewey said as he pulled various items out of the box. "Malcolm, why did Mister Winter give us all this stuff?"

"I think he did it to hide something. It's like this hat he gave me." Malcolm reached over his head and pulled down the box, opening it.

"Nice Fedora," Louis said appreciatively. "Can I have it if you don't want it."

Malcolm pondered the thought. "I have to think about it. It has a defensive shield spell attached to it. Mister Winter wants me to wear it whenever I leave school, for Hogsmeade weekends and stuff."

"What's this?" Dewey asked as he pulled a small box out of the box.

"Let's see," Louis said and went to open the box.

"Wait," Malcolm told them. "It's from Fred and George. And look at the warning label. Do not open indoors."

Dewey nodded. He opened the compartment door and saw that the coast was clear. He sat the box down in the middle of the corridor and stepped back into the compartment, drawing his wand. Malcolm stood with his hands on the door, ready to slide it shut if needs be.

Dewey cast a floating spell and lifted the cover of the box.

"CLOSE."

It was Louis that shouted.

When the cover was removed, a shining ball that left a stream of golden sparks shot up and hit the ceiling. It rebounded and was halfway back to the floor when Louis shouted. Malcolm slide the door shut just in time. The ball had hit the floor and bounced at an angle, almost shooting into the compartment. It hit the door and bounced away at crazy angles all the way up and down the corridor for at least two minutes until it exploded, lighting the entire car up with a red glow that gradually faded away.

Malcolm pulled an identical box from his assortment and read the warning label. "Do not use indoors. Well, now we know why."

"Do you want to do it this time?" Dewey asked.

"Just make sure you close the door fast enough."

"I will." Dewey looked offended.

_He won't. He'll leave the door open just to see what will happen . . . I wonder what would happen?_

"Just making sure," Malcolm said as he opened the door and looked into the corridor.

"Malcolm," Ruth Zeller called out. "Do you know what that was?"

Malcolm noticed a dozen or so people turning to look at him. "No. I was just as curious as the rest of you."

There was a third year that Malcolm recognized as a Hufflepuff. "Then why is that box by your door?"

Someone from the compartment behind him stepped over and picked up the box. "This is from the Weasley shop." He looked at Malcolm with suspicion. "And you have another box just like it in your hand."

"That's just a cruel coincidence."

"You were going to do it again, weren't you?" the Hufflepuff said accusingly.

"Can we watch?" Rose asked as she walked up. Malcolm looked up with no surprise when he saw the same group from last year. Ruth, Matthew, Euan, Jenny, Anthony.

_Anthony grew a lot over the summer._

"Anthony. What are you doing here? Is Reese on the train again?"

"I was kidnaped by a pair of deranged first years."

"That's not true," Euan said indignantly. "We're second years."

"I stand corrected."

"Are you going to set it off?" Matthew asked.

Malcolm shook his head. "You saw what the last one did. I'm just glad no one got hurt. And you saw how it shot all over the place. I can't open the box with everyone in the hallway. And if all of you go back to your compartments, you can't see it. We'd better just save it for later."

"It's too dangerous, anyway," Dewey pointed out.

"He may be Slytherin, but he's right," the Hufflepuff said.

Dewey and Malcolm looked at each other, then both glared at the Hufflepuff.

"What?" she demanded.

_She would have to make a remark like that. Now, we have to do it._

"Listen, everybody," Malcolm called out. Almost everyone in the car had entered the hallway by this point. "Go back to your compartments. It's your choice if you want to leave the door open. I'll turn the box sideways so when I take the lid off, the ball should shoot back and forth the whole length, bouncing off the doors that lead to the other cars. Does anyone have a problem with that?"

"I do," the Hufflepuff said.

"No, she doesn't," her friend said with a grin and pulled her back into their compartment. They left the door open.

Malcolm looked up and down the hallway. Almost everyone had left the door open. He held the box sideways, opened it and took one step back into the compartment.

"This is so cool," Dewey said after the sparkling ball shot past the fifth or sixth time.

* * *

After everyone's eyes cleared from watching the ball explode, the Hufflepuffs from the next compartment were the first ones to come to see Malcolm.

"Tell them," the one girl said to her friend.

The Hufflepuff girl turned to Dewey. "I'm sorry for that remark about being from Slytherin. It was a stupid thing to say. Please forgive me."

"Okay," Dewey said noncommitally.

"And," the other Hufflepuff said, "we were curious what else you had, That fireball was great."

Everyone smirked, and Malcolm opened up his box. "There's this thing. It looks like a top."

"Does it explode?" the girl asked.

"Hopefully."

Louis reached into the other box and pulled the identical item out and read the instructions. "This is another one that should be used outside. And from a safe distance. Otherwise it looks just a spinning top."

Dewey grabbed the top. "Is the hallway a safe distance?"

Malcolm nodded. "Definitely. He leaned out the doorway. "FIRE IN THE HOLE."

Everyone stuck their heads out to see what was happening. Dewey stepped into the corridor and pulled the string on the top, sending it spinning across the floor. He then dove headfirst into the compartment as a lightning bolt missed his head by inches. Screams could be heard up and down the railcar from the various students ducking out of the way as lightning bolts zigzagged off the walls and through doorways and then exploded.

When it was over, Dewey stood up, singe marks on his clothes. "That was good. Louis, you can do the next one."

"Cool. WATCH OUT, EVERYBODY. ROUND TWO."

* * *

"There is so much I could tell you," Draco said, "But there's still so much I need to find out. Vincent, Greg, you should know. Most of the time you're just going to be standing around as lookouts. I'll need a lot of time to work on this project."

Pansy brushed Draco's hair out of his eyes as he lay with his head in her lap. "Can't you even give us a hint of what you're going to do."

"Sorry, Love. I'm not even too sure yet, myself." Draco jumped as her hand brushed his arm. "Careful. I, um, hurt myself. That arm is still a little sore.

Pansy's eyes widened with a hint of surprise as she guessed why. Her eyes also held a good amount of adoration.

* * *

"Any casualties?" Malcolm called out as the smoke cleared.

"A couple of burn marks. Nothing major," someone called back.

Dewey grabbed Malcolm's arm. "Promise me. If we find any of those again, we won't set them both off at the same time."

"It's a promise," Malcolm said as he pulled out his wand. "REPARO," he called out, and the first of the damaged windows reassembled itself. He looked down the rest of the corridor and at the compartment doors and gave it up as a waste of time. "Louis, what else is in those boxes."

Louis held one of the boxes upside down. "I think that's the last of it. Except for that powder your cousin asked you to get."

"Well, let's see what that does."

Louis opened one of the packages and grabbed some powder, throwing it into the corridor. Everything went black.

"That was exciting," Louis noted. "How long does it last?"

"Not long, I hope," Malcolm answered. "We're almost to the station and we need to change into our robes.

Dewey shrugged his shoulders even though no one could see him. "I guess we have to get dressed in the dark."

_Like we've never done that before. I got really good at it when I was sneaking out at night that month I was grounded._

"This is strange," Louis said as he stepped off the train and looked back.

Dewey joined him. "That looks great. It must be because we were moving at the time."

"What's great?" Malcolm asked as he stepped onto the platform.

Dewey pointed and Malcolm looked back. The entire inside of the car was pitch black.

_That is pretty neat. And the blackness stops just far enough out that you can't tell the windows have all been blown out._

"Okay," Malcolm announced. "Dewey, you get Louis to the coaches. I'm going to fly up and hide the rest of the . . ."

"We're out," Dewey reminded him.

"I know, you dummy, but I still have that powder for Draco. I need to get it inside before I can give it to him." Malcolm raised his voice. "EUAN, YOUR ROBES ARE INSIDE OUT."

"We should check on everybody," Louis suggested as Malcolm flew away. What if somebody got hurt?"

"From the dark? We did a sound check. Everybody answered."

"I'll check on it, don't worry," a girl answered. Dewey and Louis turned around and saw her, a female version of Malcolm.

"Tonks?"

"Wotcher, Dewey. And this is our exchange student? Welcome back, Louis."

"Thanks," Louis said, unsure about who he was talking to."

"Tonks," Dewey added carefully. "The windows were like that when we boarded the train.

Tonks smiled. "I know. I was the third compartment down from you."

"And you didn't say anything?" Dewey's surprise was evident.

Tonks shrugged her shoulders. "I thought it would cheer me up. Haven't had too much cause to be happy lately." She gave another wain smile. "And it worked, for a while. Didn't like that last part though."

Dewey nodded. "We can blame that on Malcolm. He's not here so it was his fault."

Another smile as Tonks added. "He did leave rather abruptly. And you two had better get going. Louis, you can try for the boats if you want to, although that's usually for first years. And Dewey, if you have anything left you had better be careful. Filch is scanning the students as they come in."

* * *

Malcolm flew in an open window and arched down to the lone figure in the entrance hall. He was smiling when he transformed. He reached into his pocket and handed Draco the packet.

"Malcolm? What is this?"

"Peruvian blackness powder. You asked me to get it for you."

Draco eyed his cousin warily. "When?"

"This morning at Diagon Alley. Don't you remember."

"Malcolm. Listen carefully. I wasn't at Diagon Alley this morning. I haven't seen you since you went to invite Ginny to visit."

_Oh no, that mean's I was talking to Reese. He must still be pretending to be . . . Oh man, what was he going into Knockturn Alley for._

"Draco . . ."

"I know." Draco Malfoy was not smiling. "I stopped at home to talk to Mother. That's why I missed the train. She apparated with me to Hogsmeade."

Malcolm gave a confused look. "You went home? Why?"

Draco shrugged. "It doesn't matter. What does matter is that Mother told me everything that Reese did while he was me. At least, everything she knew he did. Reese managed several times to get away by himself."

Someone cleared his throat from the doorway. Argus Filch was standing there. "Malcolm. I need to check everyone before they enter the castle. In your case, you know what to do."

_Jeezel. It's just like being home with Mom._

Malcolm went to the nearby table and empties his pockets, then turned and put both hands on the wall, spreading his feet apart for the pat down. Filch made a motion and Draco imitated Malcolm's actions.

"I don't know how," Filch said when he was done, "but both of you are clean. And I would have sworn I saw you with something, Malcolm." Irritated, the caretaker went outside to wait for the rest of the students. As Draco lifted his hand off the wall, he flashed it so Malcolm could see the packet that he had palmed.

_It's an old trick, but it still works._

* * *

"Do you want to put that packet in your luggage," Louis asked as they walked the length of the train.

"Naw, they'll check the bags, too." Dewey pointed ahead of them. "I've got a better idea. DRACO, WAIT UP."

Draco hadn't heard him as he stepped belatedly out of his own compartment but he did notice Dewey waving. He also made the mistake of assuming it was Malcolm with him, and so he waited.

"Good, we caught you. Draco, Malcolm said to give you this." He handed over the packet.

Draco smiled. "Thank's Dewey. And . . . Oh, I thought you were my cousin. Thank you as well, Louis. Where is Malcolm."

"He got lazy," Dewey answered. "He decided to just fly up to the castle."

Draco nodded. "Well, have fun. I need to catch up to my friends."

"He looks different," Louis said as Draco walked briskly away.

"That's 'cause he's Reese. Draco never came back from looking for Malcolm."

Louis nodded. "People in your family go missing an awful lot."

"I don't think so. I think, since Ginny couldn't stay, Draco decided to ditch us."

"Never thought of that."

"So. Coach or boat?"

Louis looked up. "Boat, I guess. They look closer than the coaches."

"LAST CALL, FIRST YEARS," Professor Sprout could be heard calling out.

"COMING," Dewey yelled, and both ran to follow the Professor and the first years.

* * *

"Francis," Otto called as he walked out to the corral. "Who was dat mit all the yellin. She woke up me und Gretchen. It is what? 2 o'clock in the morning."

"That was Mrs. Drake. She was reenacting Paul Revere's midnight ride for me. She said that screaming was an important part of it."

"Dat drunken old woman in suite 14?"

"That's her. She said that vigorous exercise after a heavy binge keeps away the delirium tremors."

"Shtop her," Otto said forcefully. "She could fall from the saddle und hurt herself."

Francis put a reassuring hand on Otto's shoulder. "It's been taken care off. I can guarantee that she won't fall out of the saddle regardless of what she does. And she's far enough away now, you can hardly hear her screams."

"Yah, dat is true. Thank you Francis. I vas right to hire you."

Otto returned to the ranch house, and to bed, without any worries.

"Master?" asked a questioning voice.

Francis looked down at the house elf that Mrs. Drake had given him as a tip. "I told you. Call me Francis."

"Yes, Master. Francis, why didn't Master tell that man that former master did not use a saddle."

"Because I didn't have to, Tim. And it made him happy."

The house elf nodded uncertainly. "Will Master keep Timmy?"

Francis paused. "Let's talk about it in the morning. And do you remember what to say if Piama asks?"

"Yes. Timmy is a friend of the family and just visiting his master."

"No. Don't call me master in front of Piama. Call me Francis."

"Yes, Master."

Francis sighed. Hopefully, Mrs. Drake would remember to take her house elf back.


	14. The Great Hall

A/N: Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing but I wanted to make a short note for Phoenix Skyborne. I haven't followed Batman for years, and I knew nothing about Timothy Drake being the new Robin. I picked Drake for th old lady's last name because it was short. I did pick Timmy's name from a particular source, an American TV show called DINOSAURS. (The baby's catch phrase was, "not the mommy," followed by throwing something at the daddy.)

Anyway, on the show, they would watch TV, and one of those shows was a version of the old 50's and early 60's science shows, "Ask Mr. Wizard." In this show, Timmy was always the young Dino in a red and white striped shirt. Mister Wizard would always have Timmy do something very dangerous such as, "Timmy, after I get inside this concrete bunker, I want you to shake that bottle of Nitroglycerin really hard." After the resultant explosion, Mister Wizard would call out, "WE NEED ANOTHER TIMMY."

**Chapter 14: The Great Hall**

"Line up," Argus Filch demanded as the students walked up to the main doors of the castle. "No one gets through without being checked."

"No one?" Draco asked.

Filch looked up in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd join in the fun," Draco said with a smirk.

"Get inside. I don't want to deal with you, anymore."

Draco grinned at his comrades and walked past the caretaker without a pause. He loved it when his reputation earned him special treatment. He headed toward the Great Hall only to be stopped by a familiar face.

"Malcolm! Dewey told me you flew on ahead of everyone. You missed the fun. That fool, Potter, tried to eavesdrop by sneaking into my compartment. Did you know he had an invisibility cloak? But I caught him and punished him for it. Even though it meant scuffing my shoes. So, you can expect extra room at your table."

"Draco, that's nice. I'm sorry about your shoes but I need to tell you something."

"It had better be good."

"Not really," Draco said from behind him.

Draco turned around while Draco pulled out his wand and said, "Finite Incantatum." Draco's body shimmered and he became someone else.

"Dang. I'm really Reese. That stinks."

"Sorry," Draco and Malcolm said with identical smirks.

Reese shrugged. "It had to happen. But I had fun. It was really cool being you. And you know Pansy Parkinson?" Reese laughed. "Well, I patched things up for you."

"You what?" Draco's face dropped. Pansy was pretty enough but she was vain, egocentric, egotistical. Everything he was. And it was true. Familiarity bred contempt, especially for Draco.

"I never realized how much she loves you," Reese said, as students finally began to enter the school. "Anybody who looked in would have seen you just lying there, your head in Pansy lap." He nudged Draco. "I'd have loved to seen what would have happened if Crabbe and Goyle weren't there. You two looked really . . ."

"Really what?" Ginny Weasley asked from behind.

_I think it's a rule. Whenever you're talking about something, the person you least want to be there has to be standing behind you._

"Nothing, Love," Draco said quickly, smiling politely at Luna Lovegood who was standing next to Ginny.

"Oh," Reese said apologetically. "Was she the girl you kept toying with just for fun?" Forgetting it was him and not Draco who said those words, Reese apologized. "Sorry, Ginny, I didn't know you were the one we were talking about. If I'd known, I wouldn't have laughed about it with everyone else."

"He's joking," Draco said quickly.

"Some joke," Ginny answered, her face red with embarrassment and anger.

"Would you like to hear the punch line?" Pansy said, coming from behind and grabbing Draco's arm possessively.

_You see. It happened again. No one ever walks up to you where you can see them._

"Punch line? I've got one," Ginny said as she slapped Draco hard.

"Let me make that better," Pansy said with a laugh, and kissed Draco as everyone watched. Except for Ginny, who was storming away.

Luna looked at Malcolm before she walked off as well. "I read his horoscope. It said this would be his unlucky day."

"Yeah, thanks."

_Wait. I can actually see someone I know and she's walking up in plain sight. I'd say that's a relief except that it's Millicent Bulstrode._

"You need to turn around," Millicent said before Reese could say anything.

"Okay."

She put her hands over his eyes. "Guess Who."

_She's the only girl I know who would do that and believe it would work._

"I give up," Reese responded

_Then again . . ._

"Me, Lovey-Dovey."

"I thought I was Lovey-Dovey," Reese said as he turned around.

Stumped as to how to respond, Millicent decided to kiss him.

"Uh, guys," Malcolm said with irritation. "Not here, Please."

"Good idea," Reese answered. "Thanks, Malcolm."

The two grabbed hands and walked into the nearest broom closet.

"Darn," Pansy pouted. "I wanted to do that."

"Maybe later," Draco said offhandedly. "Pansy, I need to talk to Malcolm. Privately."

"I understand, Lovey-Dovey," she giggled. " I'll meet you inside."

As she left, Draco turned to Crabbe and Goyle. "I wanted to talk to Malcolm privately."

"But on the train you asked us to look out for you?"

Malcolm grabbed Draco and walked him away from Crabbe and Goyle. The two Slytherins shrugged their shoulders and entered the Great Hall.

"Don't worry," Malcolm assured his friend. "I'll talk to Ginny and let her know what happened."

Draco sighed. "Don't bother. We needed to break up anyway. Considering what's been happening. Malcolm, do you realize that your brother has singlehandedly destroyed my life."

"It's not completely destroyed."

"No? Ginny hates me with a passion. Pansy loves me with a passion. Crabbe and Goyle are, well, Crabbe and Goyle. They're good friends but I don't like the way they looked at me."

"Reese said he beat up Potter. That should make you happy."

"Happy? I've been trying to get the upper hand on that stinking halfblood since my first year. The only time I ever came close is when I LET him hit me. And Reese get's the better of him in a fair fight? How does that make me happy. Let's face it. I don't have what it takes to be a fighter. I've never learned to stand up for anything. Even myself. I'm a complete and hopeless loser. On top of that, there are things I can't even begin to tell you."

Malcolm stared in surprise as Draco began to cry.

_Oh, man. This is bad._

"What are you talking about? You're the Drakster. You're the Main Man. When everything's going well for everybody else, YOU are the one with the monkey wrench. YOU are the one everyone looks for when they have a problem. YOU are one of the shakers and movers of this school." _I'm getting into this._ "YOU are the ONE, the ONLY, DRACO MALFOY."

Draco, now dry-eyed. looked squarely at Malcolm. "What the hell are you talking about? You know, you really need to get your priorities in order."

Malcolm watched as Draco left him and walked into the Great Hall.

_At least I got him to stop crying._

* * *

"Sven," Francis called out. "Has Mrs. Drake come back yet."

"Ya. She grab a new horse and new bottle and head out again."

"A New Bottle?"

"Ya. Bourbon."

"Sven, if she comes back, tell her it's cash only, up front. That'll stop this binge."

"But she pay cash. Fifty Galleons and keep the change."

Francis rubbed his face with his hands. This nightmare was never going to end.

"Honey," Piama called from their cabin. "Can you come here. I have a question for you."

Sven nodded appreciatively. "Your wife in good mood."

Francis nodded. "Yeah, that means I'm in trouble." Faster than he wanted to, Francis walked over to talk to his wife.

"Yes, dear?"

"Don't yes dear me, Francis. What is this thing? And why does it keep calling me Mistress."

Francis acted surprised. "I'm sorry, Piama. I just realized. You've never seen a house elf before. This is Timmy. He works for Mrs. Drake, that nice old lady in Suite 14."

Piama wasn't amused. "You mean that old drunk that was screaming at two in the morning about the British attacking the ranch? Why is this house elf here?"

"Well . . ."

Piama stamped her foot. "Well?"

"You see, honey. House elves have to be owned, kinda like owning an intelligent dog. And they are smart, and loyal, and love to do things for the people who own them."

"They have to be owned?"

"Yes, Mistress," Timmy interrupted. "If a house elf is not owned, he is a disgrace to, uh, house elves."

"Right. The old drunk owns a house elf. And why is this house elf here."

"Old Mistress gave me to Master," Timmy explained, pointing at Francis."

Piama eyed Francis. "SHE GAVE HIM TO YOU?"

"ONLY UNTIL SHE GETS BACK FROM RIDING HER HORSE. Jeezel, Piama, it's not like I'm going to keep him."

"Oh. Sorry, I yelled.. Why is it wearing a dirty towel?"

"It's a house elf thing. Wearing clothes is like some big taboo. It's even against their religion to accept clothes from somebody." He added in a loud whisper. "It's a big insult to even offer him any clothes."

Piama looked at the house elf with the big ears and flat nose. "It's only until she gets back?"

"Yeah, but it may be a while. She's out on Fluffy."

"Excuse me," a man said from behind.

Francis jumped. "Why do you always have to walk up behind me."

"You had your back turned." The man smirked as Francis scowled. "I'm sorry, you were involved in your conversation, but I was told you were the Ranch Manager."

"Yeah, I'm Francis. And this is my wife, Piama. And that's Timmy."

"We wanted a girl," Piama said snidely.

"Honey," Francis said with extreme politeness. "The man wants to talk to me." He turned back to the man in question, eyeing the other man standing nervously some five feet back. "How can we help you at the Sleepy Hollow Ranch?"

"I'm Dirk Cameron with the Muggle Control Division of the Department of Secrecy. I need to ask if you had a Mrs. Drake staying here with you."

"We had, and we still have," Francis noted. "She out riding one of our horses. Did she do something wrong?"

Mister Cameron paused. "I have to apologize again. Someone told me you were already informed."

"Informed?"

"About the accident."

"What accident?"

"It was terrible," the other man said. "I saw the whole thing from my tractor from across the road. You know that big rock that sticks out next to the highway? Well, this old lady, and I do mean old, like she was 200 or somethin'. She takes a hit off this half-gallon jug of whiskey, then pours the rest of it down the throat of this horse she's ridin'. And I swear on this. Neither she nor that horse spilled a single drop. They both must 'a been lickered up somethin' fierce."

"That's unbelievable," Francis said with as much realism as he could manage. "Mrs. Drake has always been a teetotaler."

"Yeah," Piama muttered.

Francis eyed her then turned back to the man. "What happened."

"Well, this big rig comes roarin' down the highway and the old lady spots it. Then she waits until it's gettin' close. She kicks the horse. The horse goes runnin' up the side o' that rock, heads to the edge that faces the highway and . . ." The man paused. "It were a beautiful sight. That Eighteen Wheeler is passing by just as that horse leaps off the big rock. That horse leaped over the truck without even touchin' any part of it, and landed just as neat as you please in the other lane. Then the horse rears up on it's hind legs and that old lady lets out a yell of sheer delight." The look of awe fell from his face. "That's when the Eighteen Wheeler goin' the other way hit her."

"Is she . . ."

"Pretty much. She only had one horse and that trucker had four hundred and no time to hit the brakes. We can only be grateful that it was quick." The man paused. "There's a horse on your roof."

Mister Cameron raised his hand to assure Francis that he would take care of it. Francis watched as Cameron pulled out his wand. Then the other man said, "It has wings."

Francis gave Cameron a dirty look and stepped between the two men, putting his hand on the other man's shoulder and looking up at the roof where Pete was perched by the chimney.

"There's nothing up there, Mister. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I can see it plain as day. It's just sittin' up there flappin' its wings slowly, like it was airin' 'em out."

"Nope, nothing," Francis added as he turned the man away from the house. "You know, you did have a pretty big shock. It may be a delusion. You saw the horse get killed, and now you see a white horse with wings. I had a cousin who saw an accident once, and he swore he saw a line of elephants march down the street for twenty minutes straight. He was fine after a good night's rest."

The man nodded. "You might be right. Didn't see no lady though." He tried to smile. "Maybe it's a good thing if I don't look down." They laughed politely. "Oh, the ambulance took care of the lady, an' I pulled the horse here with my tractor. I gave him to that man at the back of the ranch house. He said he'd take care of it, and sent us to see you."

"Oh, thanks," Francis said and cast a glance at the kitchen. "And we'll contact her family. You don't have to worry about that. You get some rest, now."

"Will do, and thanks for your help." The man climbed on his tractor and looked back. "I can still see 'im. Via con Dios, horsey," he shouted with a wave.

Francis thought something to Pete, who let out a whinny, then jumped off the roof and flew up and away."

"I like visions like that," the man said. He waved goodbye and drove away on his tractor.

"Impressive," Cameron said. "You did that with no magic."

"And he left with a good feeling," Francis pointed out. "So, what do we do about Mrs. Drake."

Cameron shrugged. "Nothing. She had no family. She disowned them all over a hundred years ago. She'll get a burial at the government's expense, and they'll auction off her estate. After we've removed anything magical from it. Is that the house elf?"

"Yeah, but . . ."

"No buts," Cameron told him. "Elf, over here. You're government property now."

"NO. Timmy, stay where you are. You can't just take him."

"Keep out of this. Elf, come here."

Timmy shook his head. "Master told Timmy to stay."

Cameron arched an eyebrow. "Master?"

Francis smirked. "Mrs. Drake gave him to me. It was supposed to be until she gets back but . . ."

"But nothing. She gave him to you. He's yours. If you had said that in the first place you wouldn't have wasted my time." Dirk Cameron turned and took a sharp step, apparating away.

"Master kept Timmy," Timmy said with adoration.

"Do you mean we're stuck with him?" Piama asked.

"It's not that bad. My folks had a house elf once."

"And?"

Francis paused. "Well . . . he turned human and they adopted him. You remember my brother Norbert."

Piama looked down. "I don't think this one's going to change."

"FRANCIS," Otto called as he came running out of the Ranch House. "I just talked mit der chef. You ver wrong. Der is plenty of ground beef for der outdoor barbeque tonight."

* * *

"Malcolm."

Malcolm looked up to see Colin Creevey waving to him. Sitting next to him was Dennis who was wearing a cowboy hat. An Australian style cowboy hat.

"We looked for you on the train," Colin told him as he sat down.

"We were in the last car."

"We know. We found you."

"We didn't see you come into the car."

"We were going to, but we changed our minds after your car turned bright red that second time."

They shared grins then Malcolm turned to the younger Creevey. "Dennis. Nice hat."

"Colin got it for me. He went on that exchange program."

"To Alice Springs?" Malcolm asked in surprise. "You actually went to school at the Unseen University?"

"Two months," Colin bragged. "And I learned a few new spells as well. I'll show you later. Malcolm, someone said they saw Reese here?"

"Yeah. He's in the broom closet with Millicent."

Colin turned to his brother. "Dennis, do you remember how to jinx a door so it won't open?"

"I'll give it a try." Dennis ran to the entranceway, then ran back just as quickly. "Too late. Filch just went to get a broom."

_That's cool. I wouldn't want Reese to miss out on the back-to-school feast._

* * *

"Maybe something happened," Dean Thomas said, trying to console Ginny Weasley. "With everything that's been going on. Maybe he was trying to end your relationship and he couldn't risk getting close to you. Because, you know, Ron."

Ginny smiled at Dean. "You have a way with words. You make it sound like I should be grateful to him."

"I'll be honest. If it really is over between the two of you, I'd be grateful if you'd consider, well, I'm not doing anything this year, you know, if you need somebody."

Ginny squeezed his hand. "I need a friend, right now. And who knows. If we became close friends . . . I could live with that."

Ginny and Dean both smiled at each other.

From down the table, Ron and Hermione were watching.

"You see, Ron. Ginny didn't want to join us for an obvious reason. Why talk to your brother when you can talk to your boyfriend."

"But Dean Thomas? He is in Gryffindor. That makes him better than Michael Corner. But she's still going out with, you know, a boy."

Hermione laughed. "Ron, you're acting like any boy she looks at is Draco Malfoy."

"I do not."

"You threatened Neville. You asked Fred and George to test some of their gags on Michael Corner. Then there was . . ."

"Enough, already. I may have gone a bit barmy, but she is my little sister. I have to protect her."

"Ron, look at her. She's not that little anymore. And she can defend herself. You saw when she ran into Malfoy. I don't know what he said, but you can still see her hand print on his cheek from all the way over here."

Ron snickered. "That was a good start to the school year." He pointed to the door. "And here's a bad start."

Filch entered the Great Hall with Reese in hand. Millicent Bullstrode went off to the Slytherin table, her cheeks red with embarrassment. Reese was dragged to the Gryffindor table and sat next to Malcolm. Filch yelled something at Malcolm, yelled at Reese again, then left.

"It's not that bad, after all," Ron said as he noticed Malcolm's reaction. "But . . . what happened to Harry?


	15. The First Day

A/N: Ouatic-7 asked if Zacharias Smith is a crossover of Zachary Smith from Lost In Space. While it would be interesting to say yes, I must admit that I don't know. JK Rowling created him. In Book 6, Ginny mentions the incident to explain why she is having lunch with Professor Slughorn.

And my thanks to Phoenix Skyborne for the history of Robin in the Batman series. I may have to check things out. You did mention that Dick Grayson is now known as Nightwing. My memory may be wrong but there was an issue (Don't ask me how long ago) where the Boy Wonder took an aging potion which made him an adult. I seem to remember that he chose the name Nightwing as his Nom de Guerre. By the end of the issue the potion had worn off and he was back to normal.

I am also grateful to Mandraco for informing me that the Australian style cowboy hat that Dennis was wearing is known as an Akubra. That is something I did not know, and I'm willing to bet that goes for almost everyone who is reading this.

As usual, I want to thank all the readers and reviewers for taking their time out for this story.

**Chapter 15: The First Day**

The first year students were brought into the Great Hall as everyone watched. As did so many first years before them, they all gazed in amazement at the ceiling above. Professor McGonagall arranged them in alphabetical order, then walked over to Albus Dumbledore.

"Albus, I think you should know. There are only 39 students present for the sorting."

"There is nothing to worry about, Minerva. We have our full allotment of students, but it appears that one of them will be a late arrival."

The two shared an amused grin. The last time they had a late arrival, it turned out to be a young American boy who had no idea what he was getting into. In that case, however, he arrived just before the sorting.

"Do you know how late?"

"Much later than today. I know that much. It seems one of the students selected to come here does not seem to exist. But as soon as he is found, he will receive his letter."

Minerva frowned. "That is unusual."

"Very. But unusual seems to be the norm these days." Albus cast his gaze at the Gryffindor table. "Our young friend has come to the feast once again as a guest."

"Perhaps he is to be our late arrival. I am very curious how the paradox of his age will be resolved."

Albus gave a mirthful response. "Perhaps this is the year we find out. If not, we will find out next year."

Minerva McGonagall picked up the scroll of names and approached the sorting hat. She waited as the hat, once again, gave a song of warning, then she explained the sorting procedure. Only then did she unroll the parchment and call out the first name. "Angus Armstrong."

A young boy answered with a Scottish burr and took his seat on the stool. The hat was placed on his head. The Sorting had begun for a new class of students.

* * *

"Rumour has it," Colin said, "that your cousin made a new friend."

"Do you mean Pansy or Ginny?" Malcolm asked.

Dennis snorted. "Ginny Weasley left a lasting impression on him."

"It'll fade in a few hours," Reese pointed out.

_That's something Reese has a lot of experience with._

"Reese?" Dennis asked. "Why are you here?"

"The food. It's a lot better than at home, or at my old school."

Malcolm was smiling. "Didn't Mom tell you. You're going back to Glen Levitt Academy. Filch forgot to take you directly there."

_Wait for it. Reese's outbursts have to be seen to be believed._

Reese stared at his brother in surprise. "Is that true? You're not lying, are you?"

"Nope. Mom even made me bring your suitcase along."

"That's Great. Ten months without having to live at home. I'm in heaven."

_I never thought of it that way. This really is a good thing._

Reese paused. "Do you think they'll let me come here to eat?"

"NO," several people answered at once.

"Maybe," Dennis said, "when you come to visit Mill - i - cent."

"YEAH."

_I should tell Dennis. Sarcasm is wasted on Reese._

* * *

"Reese is here," Euan told Anthony.

"That's fine with me. As long as he stays here when I leave."

They listened as Reese shouted. Anthony looked at Euan.

"Can I stay here when he leaves?"

* * *

As the desserts arrived, no few people noticed that Harry Potter had arrived as well. A great deal of gossip circulated the hall as to how he had bloodied his nose, failed to dress in his robes, was late to the feast. There was one small group that was the exception.

"We'll find out later," Malcolm assured everyone. "Colin, you've kept mum long enough. How was it?"

"It was great," Dennis answered. "Colin told me and my folks all about it as soon as he came home."

"And what was so great about it," Dean Thomas asked with Ginny Weasley agreeing.

Colin smiled. "Malcolm told you how the school looks. I know how the school feels."

He had everyone's attention, including a couple of second years, and two students from a nearby muggle school.

"I took pictures, of course. The tower. The dining hall. All of the buildings and the teachers." He smiled teasingly. "But I couldn't take a picture of how it felt to be there. We're in the middle of a desert . . ."

"No," Dennis corrected as he picked up a treacle tart, "we're in the middle of a dessert."

"Shut up, Dennis," Colin said in a perfect imitation of Malcolm. "It's a desert. It's winter, so the temperature is in the low 80's sometimes. And it's dry. It rains at least ten days a year I was told. All I know is that it rained twice while I was there."

"But what's it like?" Euan Abercrombie asked with impatience.

"It's like being at a rocky beach without the water."

Malcolm snorted. "You felt like you were at the beach?"

Colin snorted in return. "You were there. They wear robes to dinner and for special occasions, but otherwise the uniform is khaki-coloured short pants and a matching cotton shirt. Footwear is optional if you're not in class. Hats are for when you're outside. I gave Dennis my hat."

"The classes," Ginny asked.

"Same as here. But there's a greater emphasis on weather spells. Transfiguration is harder and easier. I changed a table into a kangaroo, then had to chase it across the campus to turn it back. And I learned basic occlumency in DADA class." He looked at the several questioning faces. "That's where you block your thoughts so that another wizard can't read your mind."

"Then why did you bother learning it?" Dennis asked.

"Do you want to keep the hat, Dennis?"

"Sorry."

"Malcolm, what did you do over the summer."

Malcolm looked at Colin with an all knowing smile. "I spent the entire summer with my girlfriend."

Colin snorted. "What did you do?"

Ginny answered. "He hit his head as an owl and had to stay that way until he recovered."

Dennis was incredulous. "You spent the entire summer with your girlfriend, as an owl? What was that like?"

"Well, once a week I'd fly home with a letter from her. She was trying to talk my folks into letting me go to Beauxbatons." Malcolm sighed. "It mighta worked but Mom thought she was trying too hard. She sent me back here so there wouldn't be any problems."

_Except the only problem is I'll only get to see Gabrielle at Hallowe'en. And maybe Christmas. Of course, I'll write to her every week. And I'll send the letters by owl._

* * *

Draco made the best of a bad situation. He would straighten everything out when he had the chance. Until then he would pretend that he had done everything that Reese did in his name. And his face. The first thing he did was listen as Pansy told everyone what Reese/Draco had done to Potter. From there it was easy to embellish. He also made a few gestures toward his nose when he noticed certain Gryffindors were watching. In short, he had a very good time.

It was only after he arrived in his room and opened his trunk (which Reese had packed for him) that his good mood failed him. Mother had been very attentive to what Reese had been doing. She had convinced him to write a diary, probably so he could write his memoirs when he was rich and successful. Reese had written down in detail everything he had done, everything he had planned, and especially everyone he had met.

The passage about Voldemort was clear, although Reese had written it down as though it were a joke. There was a task that Draco must undertake. If he failed, he and his entire family would be killed. If he refused, his cousins would be included. The worst part of all of this was that Reese had told him exactly how to succeed.

* * *

"That was a great start," Reese said as they climbed out of the car.

"It was," Anthony admitted. He wasn't even upset that he was with Reese. "I almost wish I could have gone to that school instead."

"We can go back anytime," Reese pointed out.

Anthony looked at Reese carefully. When he was sure that the older boy had clearly missed his meaning, he said. "Yeah. We do know where the school is."

"There you two are," Hector Filch said as he opened the door to the boys dorm. "It's a good thing I knew to expect you or you'd be locked out all night."

"Locked out?" Anthony asked.

The Headmaster looked directly at the towheaded boy. "New rules this year. You were at . . . the other school. You've heard what's been going on. And you both know how far away we are. New Rules. Dorms are locked at ten o'clock. Unlocked at six in the morning. And two teachers in each dorm all night. Just in case."

"Aren't you overreacting?" Reese asked.

"Hopefully. Now get your bags and get inside. And try to be quiet." He gave an uncharacteristic smirk. "In case anyone is actually asleep on the first night back to school."

Hector let the boys in and carefully locked the door behind him, watching as the Ministry limousine drove away. Only then, seeing no one outside, did he lead the boys to their respective dorm rooms. He then sat in the student lounge and congratulated himself. Of all the expected students, only one failed to show. And that one was one of the few he would not miss.

Filch did his duty. He called the parents but they weren't home. He left a message and that was that. He would find out the truth when his call was returned. He looked up as the new teacher for Government Studies entered the lounge.

"Everyone is accounted for, Headmaster."

"Thank you, Professor," Hector replied. Then he smiled. "I think we can afford to be a little less formal, now. Don't you, Enid?"

"As long as it's not a requirement."

Hector smiled. "Never required but always desired." Then he stood up and kissed her.

* * *

Malcolm lay in bed soundly asleep, exhausted after such a long day. Dreams came slowly and flitted away just as quickly. There was one dream which was exhilarating and embarrassing at the same time. He was flying a broom over a great crowd of people but he was only wearing his underwear. Then the dream suddenly changed and became very realistic.

Malcolm stood in the classroom. He was in casual clothes. The room was empty. He looked down and saw something round on the floor. He bent down to pick it up.

Malcolm sat upright in his bed and stared into the darkness of the room. He could barely make out Louis, in the bed next to him.

_I can't explain it, but whatever that was on the floor, it sent a chill up my spine when I saw it. I hate having weird dreams._

He took a couple of deep breaths, then lay back down, but sleep was a long time coming.

* * *

Bill the Bully barely noticed when the limousine drove past him going the other way. It was bad enough getting to the station almost at midnight, but the walk was worse. The school must have been twice as far from the station than he had thought. He stopped several times to rest when he had to, but forced himself to keep walking as long as he could. It did not help that he had to drag a large trunk with him.

The sun was first beginning to appear when he finally reached the entrance to the boys dorm. Bill looked up to see the headmaster looking at him through the glass in the door. He heard the door unlock, and Filch let him in.

"I am amazed, young man. You made it a point to arrive at the last possible moment. I hope this is not an example of what we can expect from you this year." He let the boy inside. "Breakfast is in an half hour and you have another hour until first session. You may want to wash up."

Bill mumbled his thanks and lugged his trunk to his dorm room. Later, he received detention for sleeping through his first day of classes.

* * *

Piama was adamant. And the house elf was stubborn.

"Timmy will not take clothes from Mistress. Timmy can not take clothes from Mistress."

Piama threw the toddler clothes on the ground in disgust. "I WILL NOT HAVE YOU RUNNING AROUND IN A TOWEL."

Timmy was almost in tears. "If you give Timmy clothes, Timmy will be free. Timmy will be disgraced."

Piama frowned. Then she smiled. "I'll be back. You want to work? You can clean the apartment." Timmy smiled. "And . . ." Piama paused. "Timmy, can you pick up those clothes that I threw down and put them away? After all, I'm not giving them to you."

Timmy paused in thought. Mistress had presented him with a puzzle. He answered slowly. "If Timmy picks them up . . . and Mistress says she is not giving them to him . . . Yes, Timmy can do that."

Piama smiled at her small success. "Good. You can do the laundry as well. Remember, wash the whites and colors separately."

Piama left a happy house elf. Timmy had plenty of work to do. She came back two hours later with three large bags. Timmy was beaming. He even led her to the closets and the dressers to show that everything was neat and clean and even ironed. That was when Piama told him to sit down.

"These are for you," she told the diminutive creature. "They're not clothes." She showed him two of the bags. "See. It's only cloth, not clothes. So I can give them to you. Right?"

Timmy scrunched his forehead as he tried to puzzle it out. "Not clothes. And Timmy is allowed to accept gifts. If Mistress insists."

"Mistress does," Piama answered. The house elf reached into one of the bags and pulled out a roll of light blue cotton fabric, then a role of white fabric.

Timmy said with confusion and gratitude, "Thank you, Mistress."

Piama smiled her success. "And I have one more gift for you." She handed him the third bag. "That is a sewing kit and patterns for making clothes." She smiled at Timmy's surprise. "I can't give you clothes, but nothing says I can't give you the stuff to make clothes with. And if you make clothes, then they're yours without anyone giving them to you."

Timmy stared in awe at the incredible logic. "And Timmy can wear clothes because he owns them? But Timmy has not been given clothes?"

"Exactly." Piama smiled once more. "First, we'll get you dressed. Later, we'll try for style."

Two weeks later, Piama knew she had succeeded when Timmy asked her for denim so he could make his own pair of jeans. She had also convinced the elf to call her and Francis by their first names. Later on, when Timmy finally felt comfortable with his new masters, he would make it a point to call Francis, "pard'ner', whenever guests were around.


	16. The School Year Progresses

A/N: I must admit that Mandraco is probably right about England using Celsius. Colin told his classmates it was approx. 180 degrees Fahrenheit in Alice Springs. This is clearly and obviously a factual error, and will be corrected as soon as I can wake up and do the proper conversions.

As an added piece of trivia, the word Nitpicking refers to the useless act of picking nits out of one's hair. The nit is the empty egg casing of the louse (plural: lice). Obviously, one would have done better to pick the eggs out before they hatched.

And Muggle1 has asked the obvious question. Next year will be Harry's last year, but only Malcolm's five year. Will I write a sixth and seventh year for Malcolm. The answer is no. While I do not know what happens to Harry in book 7, I already know what happens to Malcolm. I even hinted at what happens in one of his dreams. Somehow, it's an appropriate ending.

**Chapter 16: The School Year Progresses**

Draco stared dispassionately into his porridge. He was only vaguely aware that Dewey was sitting next to him. When he noticed, he shrugged his shoulders and went back to staring at his breakfast. Until he had the glimmer of an idea.

"Dewey?"

"Yeah."

"Have you ever been in trouble?"

Dewey snorted. "Are you joking?"

"I mean BIG trouble. And you had no way to get out of it."

Dewey eyed his cousin carefully. "No."

"You've never been in big trouble?"

"I've always had a way to get out of it."

"Oh." Draco was silent for almost a minute. "How?"

"Do you want a specific example or a general explanation."

"I'll choose the general explanation."

"If you're heading for big trouble, do something else but not as big and not as bad, and do it so you'll get caught."

Draco frowned. "Get caught doing something that's not as bad."

"Yeah. Mom always freaks out and punishes me, then when she finds out about the really bad thing she thinks I would never have really done it. It works every time."

Draco was intrigued. "Could I have a specific example?"

"Sure. Mom told us we couldn't get a minibike because they were too dangerous."

"Minibike?"

"Like a miniature motorcycle. Not as powerful but better than a moped."

"Moped?"

"Never mind. Anyway, we got one."

"And?"

"And Reese went for a ride and broke his leg. We were in big trouble if Mom found out."

"And what did you do?"

"Reese and I pretended to be playing in the driveway while Malcolm talked Craig into going for ice cream. We pretended Craig ran over Reese's leg. We got in trouble for playing a cruel trick on Craig."

Draco did not bother asking who Craig was, although he would have remembered the rotund man if Craig Feldspar had been pointed out to him.

"How did that get you out of big trouble?"

"It's easy. We got Craig to move out of the house, so Mom only punished us for getting the bike, not for using it."

Draco nodded appreciatively. "That was clever."

Dewey looked up at his cousin. "Draco. You're getting weird. Even for you."

"I blame it on my relatives."

Draco smiled as his thought progressed. He had a plan. It would cost a lot of money but he knew what he could do. He would buy a certain necklace at Borgin and Burkes. Better yet, Reese's diary had explained that he, as Draco, had cast the Imperious Curse on Madam Rosmerta when he paid a secret visit to Hogsmeade over the summer. Draco laughed, ignoring Dewey's stare. His plan was perfect.

He would give the money to that woman and have her buy the necklace. And he would warn Burke about what he was doing. Then the necklace would be given to a Gryffindor during the first Hogsmeade weekend. Better yet, that student would also be under the effects of the Imperious curse. That student would be caught and they would suspect him. They'd find out about Madam Rosmerta and trace the spell, and the money, to a student in Slytherin.

Draco dreamed about what would happen next. He would be discovered, and Dumbledore would confront him, maybe use veritaserum on him, and everything would be revealed. Voldemort couldn't punish him for failing if he were sent to Azkaban. That part scared him but he reminded himself that the dementors were no longer there. He would be in prison. But he would be safe.

* * *

"Reese," Hector Filch called cheerfully.

"I didn't do it."

"Not yet, but you will."

Reese stared curiously at the headmaster. "So, you're going to punish me in advance?"

"Not at all. This isn't about a punishment, lad. It's about the conditions of your return to the school."

"Conditions?"

"Precisely. As you know, you do not have a scholarship for this year. You have to earn your way."

"You mean I have to pay to be here?"

"In a sense," Hector answered, adding to himself, "you barmy git." He cleared his throat and continued. "You and your friend Anthony are in the same position, in more ways than one. You are both required to work in the cafeteria during your daily free period, cleaning up from lunch and helping to prepare for dinner. You also work there every other weekend."

Reese was horrified. "You can't mean that."

Hector raised his arms to say there was no choice in the matter. "You either work in the cafeteria, or you return home and go to your local school."

Reese thought with surprising speed. Two hours every weekday and every other weekend or deal with Mom on a daily basis."

"That's no problem. When do I start."

"Today, after lunch."

* * *

Malcolm caught up with Dennis as they were leaving the Great Hall.

"Do you still want to take animagus lessons?"

Dennis looked at him with surprise. "What? I guess. Do you mean like going down to the lake and pitching stones and stuff."

"Mostly stuff, but yeah. How have things been going over the summer?"

"Well, Colin wasn't around and I had a lot of time on my hands. I've been trying to figure out what kind of animal I can turn into. There's a lot of animals I'd like to be, but I can't imagine what it would be like. You said that was important." Dennis brushed his hair nervously. "I need to go to McGonagall's office before first class today. I'll see you."

"What did you do?"

"I - I'm not sure."

"Good luck," Malcolm called out as Dennis ran down the hall.

"He's off in a hurry," Ginny said as he walked up. "What happened?"

"He did something and has to see McGonagall. He wouldn't say what."

Ginny nodded. "I have to go by her office on the way to my class. I'll let you know if I hear anything."

_She has one of those ears Fred and George make. She's going to eavesdrop._

"Hey, that's on my way, too. I'll join you."

Ginny frowned. "You don't have to."

Malcolm smirked. "Then you don't need a lookout. In case someone comes."

Ginny smiled. "On second thought, I'd love your company."

As they walked toward McGonagall's office, Malcolm had to ask, "Why'd you hit Draco, yesterday."

"As though you don't know." Ginny bristled. "I saw him on the train with Pansy Parkinson. He was talking about me as though I was a . . ."

"Draco wasn't on the train. He missed it and his mom brought him. He was already at the school when the train arrived."

"But . . ." Ginny's confusion suddenly cleared. "I'm so stupid. I forgot all about Reese." She paused. "Why was Reese still pretending to be Draco?"

"Draco was out all summer looking for me."

Ginny laughed. "Mum told me about your accident. I thought someone would have told him."

"The truth is Mister Winter used Draco to do a few things for him during vacation. Draco didn't want to go home and Mister Winter decided to put him to work instead."

"And what happened?"

"Draco realized that his mom really does care about him. He return home to talk to her instead of going to the train. And it all worked out. We needed a plan to trick Reese into going back to school, anyway."

Both Gryffindors looked up as they heard a scream come from McGonagall's office. Malcolm dropped his books and ran to the door. "It's locked."

"Step back," Ginny said as she pulled out her wand. "Alohamora." A pause. "It didn't work."

"The new security spells," Malcolm pointed out. "Wait here. I'll fly around to her office window.

The door swung open and the Professor was standing there. "Don't bother. And you, young lady. Why did you try to open my door?"

"We heard you scream, Professor," Ginny answered.

Malcolm, standing next to her, nodded. "We thought something might have happened to you."

McGonagall glared at both of them. "Something did happen. And it gave me quite a fright. Mister Creevey was telling me about your animagus lessons and his own personal experiments at transforming." As she paused for breath they saw Dennis standing by her desk looking extremely embarrassed. "It seems that, um, Dennis attempted a transformation over the summer. I'm afraid that the shock of him trying such a thing caught me by surprise. I apologize. I didn't realize that I was that loud."

_She's apologizing to us? Why?_

"Malcolm," McGonagall continued, "Dennis told me that he made similar attempts last year until you advised him not to. It appears that he did not heed your advice."

_I think we're about to find out._

"From now on, you are not to give him any more lessons and neither of you is to even give him any advice. I will be taking care of his education in this matter personally from now on. Do you two understand?"

"Yes, Professor," they answered.

"And, to avoid any comments or advice from anyone else, neither of you is to talk about this or mention it. I don't want Dennis to receive any, um, encouragement from ANY student. Do you understand?"

Both nodded. McGonagall waved them away and closed the door.

"That was scary," Ginny said as they walked away. "I'm just glad she didn't ask what we were doing there. What did Dennis do?"

"Last Christmas he showed me how he was trying to change. I warned him that it was dangerous."

"It is," Ginny told him. "Last year, when we ran into Neville, there was this lady in the same ward. She tried to turn into a dog. And it almost worked. I think she's still there. I don't think they can cure her."

"Yeah. Well, I think Dennis tried the same thing and got lucky. They could cure him. That's why McGonagall was so upset. She probably thought he was attacked or something. She freaked when she found out he did it to himself."

Ginny sighed. "Knowing McGonagall, we won't be seeing much of Dennis for a couple of months."

"That's for sure."

* * *

Louis didn't know whether to be complimented or not. As soon as he sat down in the Great Hall, a brown-haired girl sat down next to him. Another girl sat across from him, her hair was what he would call dirty blond. A third girl sat next to him on the other side. All three were in Gryffindor and all three were in Malcolm's year.

"Is someone missing?" Louis asked.

"Bridget is dating Seamus Finnigan," the dirty blond answered. "She's curious, too, and I promised to tell her everything we can find out about you."

"You're very direct."

"Thank you. McGonagall said you were an exchange student?"

"Until the end of October."

"Where do you go to school? I mean, in the States," the other girl asked.

"I don't. I'm home schooled."

"A hedge wizard," the brown haired girl said in a loud whisper, and the three girl's laughed.

"Then I guess I ain't good enough for youse," Louis said brusquely.

Neville Longbottom, who was walking past paused when he heard the remarks. He could tell by Louis' reaction that they both felt the same way about that term. Hedge wizard was one of those phrases that Neville had heard many times behind his back as a child. He stopped and said, "Excuse me."

Louis looked up. "Yeah."

"We've never met formally. I'm Neville Longbottom. And I was told that you were Louis Renault."

"I still am."

"I hope you enjoy your stay. I know a classroom will be very different from private tutors." He smiled to himself as the girls frowned at the word 'tutors'. "Try to think of it as a group effort as opposed to a lack of individual attention."

"I'm not used to groups," Louis admitted.

"Would you like to join me. I'm trying to get close to Colin Creevey. He's in the year above yours. He was also an exchange student over the summer holiday. Spent two months in Australia. And he's telling everyone about it."

Louis, who had already noticed the girls' reactions, jumped at the chance.

The blond-haired girl bit her lip and looked at the other two. "I don't believe we were so wrong. Did you hear Longbottom. Private Tutors. As in more than one. I bet he even had his own Quidditch coach."

"Hi, everyone," Bridget said as she walked by with Seamus. "What happened to your love interest."

The blond pointed at the brown haired girl. "Denise called him a hedge wizard, and we laughed. Now we're social outcasts."

"I should have known," Denise complained. "I felt his hair. It wasn't greasy at all."

Seamus laughed at the girl's embarrassment. "Didn't you know? That was a costume he wore, just for show. I asked him about his hair. He said he hadn't greased it since he was here." He turned to Bridget. "Let's show him that at least one girl in Gryffindor thinks before she talks."

Bridget couldn't help but smirk. "Do you mean we're going to introduce him to Hermione Granger?"

Denise frowned. "I wish Amber was still here. She always knew what to say. Have either of you heard from her?"

The other girl answered. "We could ask Professor Vector. She came by to collect her things, back in June, remember. She might have heard something."

The blond girl sighed. "I ran into her at Diagon Alley. All she said was that Amber was going to a different school. She wouldn't say where but she said EJ went there, too."

"What's that," a third year girl asked. "EJ Captain changed schools to be with Amber Dowling?"

The third year and her friends sighed as they went back to their own conversation. "I wish I could meet a boy like that."

* * *

"Pull out your wands," Professor McGonagall called out. She frowned when she saw a glint of reflected light. "Mister Renault, please hold up your wand."

Everyone looked at Louis who was holding a silver wand over his head. Malcolm, sitting next to him, whispered. "Is that . . ."

"Chrome plated. My old man did it."

"Your Old Man?" McGonagall asked. "You mean your father did this to a perfectly good wand? Why?"

Louis feigned surprise. "Because a steel wand is just plain ugly."

Now everyone was surprised, except McGonagall who was impressed. "That in itself shows talent. How many times has it been folded." She held her hand out (clearly asking and not demanding) to see the wand.

"Over four thousand times," Louis said with pride.

"And it's core?"

Louis knew he was going to impress her even more. "Phoenix Tears, freely given. My old man had a fit. It was the most expensive wand the guy had. But when he saw that it fit me . . ."

McGonagall handed the wand to Louis. "It is a precious gift. Use it well." She walked back to her desk. "For today's lesson . . ."

"Professor?" It was the girl, Denise, who asked. "Does he have a STEEL wand? Shouldn't wands be made of wood."

Minerva McGonagall smiled and frowned at the same time. Her lesson for the first day might never be taught but she would give her students a different lesson.

"You are almost correct, Denise. Wands are usually made of wood with a part of an animal at it's core. It's a symbolic magic. Animals and plants. It is a symbol of life itself. It is that symbolic magic combined with an individual's compatibility that makes it such an important tool in casting spells. When you have Charms, you may want to ask Professor Flitwick about that."

She paused, smiling to herself. Never had her students been so attentive. "About two hundred years ago, a wizard discovered that steel could be used in casting spells. He never explained how he discovered this and he didn't do much with the information. As a result, his name is almost forgotten. But one person he did tell was a young wizard, a muggleborn, George Carpenter. Carpenter's father, despite his name, operated a muggle steel mill. He returned home and experimented. He discovered that 'folding' the steel made it stronger and also made it more pliable to the use of magic. He also made the discovery, after many years of testing, that a steel wand must have a liquid core. Dragon's blood or the blood of another magical creature was the most effective. Using bile or another bodily fluid could be useful but would give the wand strength in one type of magic at the expense of other types. Are there any questions?"

"Professor," a boy asked. "He said his wand had Phoenix tears?"

"Phoenix tears that were freely given. That makes his wand extremely rare, and I believe he said it was extremely costly as well. As with all wands, however, if you are not attuned to it then it doesn't matter what it's made of. The real point of interest here, I should tell you, is not that Mister Renault has a wand made of steel. Steel wands always sell quickly, mostly to collectors as valuable curiosities. Mister Renault, unlike wand collectors, uses his wand." McGonagall smiled again. "And now we will test his wand against all of yours. Your first task of this school year is to change the tea kettles on your desks into guinea pigs. Who wants to go first?"

* * *

It was too good to be true. Crabbe and Goyle, minus Draco had come across Louis Renault during a brief moment when he was alone. They considered it their duty to harrass the exchange student. They began by shoving him to the floor.

Louis automatically rolled when he hit the floor and surprised the two Slytherins by doing a backward flip and landing on his feet. Louis's wand was out.

"Expeliarmus." Crabbe's wand went flying before he could draw it. In anger he started to rush Louis while Goyle pulled his wand out. "Stupify." Goyle fell, stiff as a board while Crabbe lunged at Louis. The American stepped sideways, while tripping Crabbe and at the same time striking him sharply in the side with the flat of the wand. Crabbe fell, gasping for air.

"Well done."

Louis turned to see the new teacher, Professor Slughorn staring at him with approval.

"Thanks, Professor."

"And what spell did you use on this boy. It was nonverbal."

Louis frowned. "He was too close for a spell. It was a martial arts trick." His frown turned to a bragging smile. "I got me a black belt in Tae Kwon Do and in Karate, and I also . . ."

Slughorn laughed. "Muggle defenses. You are a clever boy. And I see McGonagall was right." He paused and pulled out his wand as Crabbe pulled himself up. "Get out of here, you miscreant." He pointed his wand at Goyle. "FINITE INCANTATUM. And take your partner in crime with you."

Both boys left quickly, ignoring the small crowd that was forming.

"As I was saying,"Slughorn continued, "I understand that you have a steel wand. And I observed that you can use it with skill." He glanced at the various students watching curiously. "But a hallway is not a place to chitchat. I'm having a small dinner party tonight, to get to know a few of the students. I would be pleased if you would join me."

"Thanks. Sure," Louis said with surprise.

"Be at my office at Six sharp. Do you know Hermione Granger. She should be able to show you the way. She is also a guest."

As Slughorn walked away, a familiar girl stepped up to Louis. It was Denise. Louis brushed his hair back in his familiar habit of annoyance, then felt further annoyed. He had promised his old man not to use anymore hair gel, it lacked class. But it made Louis feel cool. He hadn't felt like himself since he came to this school. His last thought before the girl began to speak was: I hope I'm not turning into Malcolm.

"Look," Denise said quickly, "I know I was a jerk this morning but I can't help myself. It's just that you're really cute and you're the most interesting person I've been able to talk to except I keep saying stupid things without thinking and it makes me nervous and I start rambling on and on about . . . anything."

Louis looked down at the embarrassed girl. "I'm cute?"

"It's your hair," Denise said in an embarrassed whisper.

"Oh?" Now Louis was nervous and embarrassed. "I'm going to lunch. You wanna join me?"

"I'll just annoy you."

"As long as it's just you annoying me. I don't think I could handle your friends as well." Louis began to walk away, and looked back. "Are you comin'?"

"Um, Louis," Denise said as she pointed in the other direction. "The Great Hall is this way."

"Oh."

* * *

Reese grumbled as he entered the kitchen after lunch. He was given an apron and told to clear all of the tables. Anthony had the easy tasks of cleaning the tables, refilling the condiments and resetting the chairs. Reese had the task of helping wash the dishes. He also had the unwanted pleasure of watching the cook prepare dinner. It was spaghetti. Tuesdays were always spaghetti.

Three large pots were prepared for the pasta, and two for the sauce. Reese grimaced as large cans of tomato sauce were opened and poured in, followed by handfuls of oregano. The assistant cook was busy making the meatballs. Three for each student. Four for each teacher. And all he could eat for himself.

"There has to be a better way," Reese muttered, and an idea began to form in his head. To be fair, the idea had nothing at all to do with food or even the school, and it fell into nothingness before it ever became anything. Instead, Reese concentrated on cleaning the dirty plates simply by spraying them with really hot water.


	17. September Reminiscing

A/N: Jongluer asked about the inspiration for a steel wand. That would have to be Rolling Thunder. Every year for the July Fourth holiday, Almost every Veteran with a motorcycle rides into Washington, DC. As a rule, they will organize at some points outside the city, and enter in large groups. The police will block off the side roads and highway ramps for them. I had the advantage, one year, of being on a bridge overlooking one of the highways with a good view each way. At one point, all you could see in either direction was motorcycles.

While I watched, I had an idle thought: What if some of them were wizards (or witches)? And I finally had the chance to throw that idea into a story.

**Chapter 17: September Reminiscing**

Greaser was pacing his shop. For years, he had successfully dealt with questionable people. In both the muggle and wizarding world. But now those people were beginning to question him. They found it suspicious that federal agents would visit him regularly yet never arrest him.

Then one or two people were caught. Suspicions became concerns. Now, on both sides of the magical fence, former friends were concerned about how reliable Greaser was. To make matters worse, David Winter had arrived at the door, in daylight, and with company. Greaser knew that his former friends were making their decisions. He knew they were watching him. There was a knock at the door.

"Greaser," David said in a loud and cheerful voice. "I'm glad you're here."

"What do you want this time?"

David was standing close to the door, but his two companions stood back a few feet. One was looking at the motorcycles that Greaser was reworking and nodded appreciatively. Not that he would ever become a customer.

Greaser moved his hands carefully, trying to keep them in the shadow. In sign language he said, we're being watched. Vocally he said, "What the hell do you guys want now?"

David Winter smiled inwardly. For the first time he was truly grateful that his Aunt Ellen had been born deaf. He signed back. I know. "I only wanted to congratulate you."

"I don't need anything from you except peace and quiet." I won't last much longer. I have to run.

"We won't bother you much longer," David said with a laugh. I have a plan. It will work.

Greaser stared in disbelief. A plan? A way for him and his son to live a normal life? Without having to hide? He could avoid a muggle gunman easily enough, but there were wizards who would not hesitate if they believed he had betrayed them. "What are you talking about?"

David reached out his hand and gently led Greaser out into the yard, heavily fenced to keep the inquisitive from getting too close to the bikes and cars in his lot.

"Do you know, Henry? May I call you Henry? "Do you know that your record is amazingly clean. You have been listed as a person of interest in several dozen crimes over the years, but there has never been enough evidence to make you a suspect. You should be proud of your record."

"If my record's so clean then why are you here?"

David waved for the two men to come forward. "I told some friends about you and they also thought you were a person of interest. They looked at your record and decided that they would ask you a few questions. Do you mind? They're simple questions. You've answered them hundreds of times, I'm sure."

Greaser stared hard at David Winter. His next line fit perfectly. "What are you getting at?"

"Excuse me," the older of the two men asked in a matter of fact voice. "Are you Henry Renault?"

"Yeah," Greaser answered carefully. He noticed the street kid loitering by the gate. He may have only been sixteen but Greaser knew the kid was working. The kid had just leaned back to hear what was going on. There was probably a wizard nearby as well, using an eavesdropping spell.

The older man asked his second question. "And is this an accurate copy of your birth certificate." He held up a sheet of paper.

"Yeah," Greaser answered.

The man nodded as he reached into his pocket. "We obtained this from the French government. You acknowledged that you are French by birth and our records show that you have never become a naturalized citizen. As an investigatory agent for the Immigration and Naturalization Service I must demand to see your green card."

Greaser was shocked. The man was holding a pair of handcuffs and his partner had drawn his revolver. It was then he understood what the plan was. "I . . . I don't have one. I don't need one. I've been living here for fifteen years . . ."

"Save it for your lawyer, Mister Renault." He put the cuff on Greaser's outstretched had and deftly forced him to turn around, attaching the other cuff. "You are under arrest for violation of the immigration statutes and you will be held for deportation pending the results of your hearing."

As Greaser was led away, he saw the kid suddenly become bored and leave. He almost had to laugh. All of his problems were solved. His so-called friends would believe that he hadn't ratted them out. They would know that he didn't escape, either. He would have to go back to France. To visit Paris again. The old haunts where he met his late wife. He would walk along the Seine where they had strolled so many times. Greaser stopped as he understood one more thing. He would have to meet his In-Laws.

* * *

Louis sat quietly reading his letter, his breakfast forgotten. Denise noticed his look.

"Louis? What's wrong?"

He looked up startled. "Oh, nothing. My old man. He gave up his shop. He's moving back to France."

"That sounds nice. Did he say where in France?"

Louis folded the letter and put it away. "That's what surprised me. It ain't from him. It's from my Grandfather."

It wasn't only Denise looking at Louis. Everyone was curious now.

"Why would that surprise you?"

Louis shook his head as though to shake the last of his disbelief. "I never knew I had a grandfather. Pop never said anything. And now I get this letter saying He's there, He's in charge of me, and He's sending me to school."

"School?" Denise asked.

"In France?" another girl asked, then smiled "I wonder which one."

"I only know one," a fifth year girl answered. "Louis, If you go there before the end of the month, can I be your date to the ball?"

Louis stared at the crowd around him, mostly girls. None of them looked sympathetic. And not a few had the look of avarice about them.

* * *

"I hate you, Malcolm."

"It's nice to see you too, Dewey. I guess you didn't make the Quidditch team."

Dewey snarled at his brother as they walked down the hallway. "I made the team. As backup. I'm a better beater than any they've got. I'm almost as good as Draco as Seeker, and I'm a decent chaser. But they won't make me part of the regular team."

"And you're blaming me?"

"No. They are. They don't want Malcolm's brother playing for them. Greg even said that they'd of grabbed me in a heartbeat if Uncle Lucius went through with the adoption."

_Yeah, like I'm going to believe that._

"Dewey, it's not my fault. Blame Draco. Slytherin hasn't had a winning season since he joined the team. How would it make him look if you won a game for them."

"Nice try," Dewey noted. "But Draco's the one got me to be backup. They weren't even going to do that."

"Fine. It's my fault. At least you're on the team."

"I still hate you."

"Like I really care." Malcolm stopped. "Dewey, I almost forgot. Mom sent us some cookies. Here's your half."

Dewey took the paper bag. "Thanks." As he reached in for a cookie he asked, "are you going to Beauxbatons for Hallowe'en?"

"They'll let me know sometime next week. Probably. Unless something happens. Did you want to go?"

"Yeah. Maybe that girl will be there and we can play Quidditch again. And Malcolm. I still hate you."

_Normally I wouldn't say a thing to McGonagall except last year he was playing at night and he drove his broom straight into the ground. I'm hoping he does it again this year._

* * *

"Howdy, Pard'ner. Welcome to the Sleepy Hollow Ranch."

The man looked at the house-elf standing on the counter. The denim jeans. Homemade flannel shirt. Cowboy hat and boots made to fit.

"Are you in charge?" The man had a distinct English accent.

The house elf laughed in a manner which said he had been asked this before. "No way, pard'ner. No way they'd put Pecos Tim in charge. I ain't got the gumption to stick to anythin' that long. Let me get the clerk for ya." Timmy turned his head and yelled, "Hey, Frank. Got a live one here." He turned back. "See ya around, Pard'ner." And he disappeared.

"Sorry about that," Francis said as he walked behind the clerk's desk.

"About not being here, or about the house elf."

"Both, I guess." Francis gave a polite smile.

"I am curious," the man asked. "How is it you have a freed house elf working for you?"

"Timmy, I'm sorry, Pecos Tim is not free. We tried everything but he doesn't want to be."

"But he was wearing clothes."

Francis' smile became real. "Yeah. My wife figured out that we can't give him clothes but we can give him the stuff he needs to make his own clothes. The denim jeans were his own idea."

The man pulled out a note pad and began writing. "And how long have you owned this house elf?"

"About three months."

"And he changed from an ordinary subservient house elf to what he is now in only three months."

"Who are you and why are you taking notes."

The man smiled. He wedged his quill into the notepad and extended his free hand. "Phineas Glyph. I'm with the Daily Prophet. We were looking for a feature story, you know, to keep people's spirits up. What with all that has been going on back home."

Francis shook the man's hand as he listened. Wheels started turning in his head. This was free advertising. English families would relish the idea of a vacation free from the local problems, whatever they were.

"I'm Francis . . ."

"I know," Phineas Glyph said. "We met once before but you might not remember me. You gave me a brief interview at your brother's adoption. If I might ask, is this the same house elf you claimed was once your brother. Amusing story, that."

Francis paused as he thought how to answer. He already told the man that Timmy wasn't free, and he remembered the newspaper story about the adoption. It mentioned that Nob had been set free. He had to tell the truth.

"No. Tim was owned by and elderly guest we had at the ranch. She gave Tim to my wife and me as . . . I guess you'd call it a belated wedding present." Francis gave a solemn frown. "Regretfully, she left the ranch the next day and passed away not long after that. We'll never have a chance to repay her."

"Marvelous story. Can I confirm that."

Francis nodded. "Ask anyone."

"And about this house elf. Is he really named Pecos Tim."

"As of last week. Our apartment is small an there's not much for him to do. By making him Pecos Tim, it keeps him busy and makes an added attraction for the ranch. He's learning to use a rope and he'll be doing tricks as soon as he can get the hang of them. We expect him to be popular with the kids."

"And you said he makes his own clothes?"

"Yeah, that way they're his to begin with. It seems you can't free a house elf by giving him clothes if he already owns them."

"Curious." Phineas made additional notes in his pad. "And what activities do you have for the guests?"

Francis stepped out from behind the counter. "Why don't I give you the grand tour."

* * *

"Malcolm?"

Malcolm looked up from his bed. "Reese? What are you doing here?"

"I need this," Reese explained, taking a small box off Malcolm's night table."

"Take it," Malcolm said angrily, Then shouted out loud as he suddenly awoke, "I don't need it any more."

"Malcolm?" Louis asked groggily from the next bed.

"Sorry. Bad dream."

"Well, have them quietly. We're trying to sleep."

* * *

"There are wards all around the ranch to keep ordinary people out unless they specifically intend to come here. That's usually for food deliveries and such. We're lucky in one respect. The local vet has a brother who could do magic. We can have her come up here anytime without causing problems."

"And this is a beautiful view from up here," Phineas said as he looked down from the horse's back.

"Yeah, Pete and I became friends our very first day. He's an amazing horse even for a pegasus."

"How can you know that? You mentioned he was the only one you ever saw."

"Yeah, but most of our guests have seen flying horses before. I know Pete is special because of the comments they make."

Phineas laughed. "Point taken."

"Anyway, the main building is the hotel, the barn next to the corral is the stable and the one on the other side of the hotel is actually a ballroom."

"A ballroom? On a ranch?"

"Barndancing," Francis reminded the reporter.

* * *

Anthony stood in front of the headmaster. He was still wearing his apron from working in the kitchen. Hector Filch was giving him a curious stare as though he couldn't decide if he should be angry or amused.

"Can you explain this sudden act of rebellion, young man."

""It was Reese, Sir. But it wasn't sudden."

Filch eyed the boy with disbelief. "Do you mean it was planned?"

"No, Sir. Not at first. But . . . perhaps I should start from the beginning."

Anthony thought back to that first day. It was Tuesday. They always served spaghetti on Tuesdays. Reese looked up in annoyance as the head cook poured the cans of tomato sauce into the large pot. Reese actually looked disgusted when she threw in a half cup of oregano as seasoning. Then Reese made his first rebellious statement.

"Why don't you boil the meatballs? It'll be faster."

The cook smirked. "Because the ground beef will fall apart. Shows how much you know about cooking."

Anthony should have guessed then that Reese was planning something. Because all Reese did was smile and say, "I guess you're right."

It was something about the spaghetti. Reese complained that she spoiled the easiest meal in the world. Then he started going to the kitchen early. Reese began helping with other things. He even missed one class to help with the deliveries. Anthony saw him, after class having a serious conversation with the delivery man. Reese never had a serious conversation about anything. Anthony later found a way to describe it perfectly. He was like a thief checking out the bank before he robbed it.

This morning, Reese had missed class again to help out with the delivery truck. That was when Anthony became involved. He saw Reese and became suspicious. He decided he could miss a class of his own.

"What are you doing?" Anthony asked as he confronted Reese at the kitchen entrance.

"Good, you're here. Grab these and hid them in the storage room."

Reese gave Anthony two boxes marked Misc. to carry before the boy could object. Reese gave the driver some money. The driver gave Reese his change, his receipt and two more boxes.

"Hurry up," Reese said as he literally pushed Anthony ahead of him. "We don't want to get caught."

Fear and Reason caught up with Anthony at the same time. Fear because he was now involved in another of Reese's plans. Reason told him he should have known better because he was dealing with Reese.

"What are we doing?" Anthony whispered as they hid the boxes behind the freezer.

"Teaching these people a lesson." Reese eyed him warily. "You're not thinking of chickening out, are you?"

"I wasn't even thinking of chickening in?"

"C'mon. We still have the rest of the truck to empty. I volunteered us."

"You knew I was coming?"

Reese grinned as though it should have been obvious. Later on, Anthony discovered that Reese had simply lied to him. But Reese's plan worked. Anthony now felt that he was involved and was too curious not to find out how it ended. And he had one good reason for not worrying about what happened afterward. He could always blame Reese.

Anthony and Reese helped out in the kitchen as usual that Tuesday afternoon. When the dishes were all washed, Anthony took off his apron. He had enough time to get to his last class of the day. Then he heard the click. Reese had pulled the fire alarm.

"FIRE IN THE STORAGE ROOM. QUICK, BEFORE THE CANS START EXPLODING."

Reese held one of the door to the serving area open and ushered everyone out as smoke came under the door of the storage cabinet. He made Anthony hold open the other door, to make it easier for all half-dozen of the kitchen employees to escape the fire. As the last person left, Reese pulled Anthony back and slammed the doors closed. He slid the locking bar into place then ran to the single door on the other side and locked that as well. He stopped by the delivery door to make sure it was still secure. Then he opened the cabinet door and pulled out the smoke bomb, dumping it into a glass of water to distinguish it.

Anthony's reaction was typical of anyone in his situation. "What the bloody hell are you doing?"

"Taking over," Reese answered seriously. "Get the grill ready."

"What?"

"We're making dinner. Turn on the grill."

"Why? What do you expect me to do?"

"Cook the ground beef while I chop the peppers and onions. And don't forget the garlic."

Anthony was amazed. Reese filled three pots with water and let the pasta soak. The he took two more pots and poured the sauce into them adding some oregano but also basil and a couple of other spices.

As the sauce simmered, Reese began to chop the peppers. Then he washed the onions. Anthony asked why and found out that if you washed them first, they didn't make you cry. That was when he understood that there was one thing Reese did know about. They were going to make real SPAGHETTI instead of the usual plastic pasta.

Anthony pushed the ground beef around the grill, adding everything that Reese had chopped. The smell was filling the room. And another smell. Reese ran to the ovens and pulled out the freshly baked bread rolls and put them in the warming bin. He then told Anthony when to add everything to the sauce, then went off to fix the dessert. Anthony peaked when he had the chance. Reese was at the whipping machine. Tonight, dessert would not be gelatin.

Everything was ready. Anthony unlocked the door. The head cook stormed in and walked straight up to Reese. Reese was smirking and holding a spoon with the sauce. The head cook hesitated then took the spoon. She tasted it and nodded.

Anthony rolled out the warming bin to the serving area. The students were already queuing up, the earliest ones commenting on the smells. The staff set everything up in the serving trays and the meals were passed out. Anthony was given his own meal and sat down at a table, still wearing his apron. He loved everything. Even the Chocolate Mousse.

Finishing his tale, Anthony sighed and waited for the headmaster's reaction.

"And how did Reese manage to get the money for his purchases?"

"He has a rich cousin who owed him a favour."

Filch scowled. "I know about the rich cousin."

"Sir, could I say something on Reese's behalf. While we were cooking he kept bragging about what he did. He even said that nobody could complain about the money. And he showed me the receipts. Vegetables are cheaper than meat and he actually gave out more food at about the same cost."

"Are you saying he knows his way around the kitchen."

"As I explained, Sir. He learned everything he wanted to know."

Anthony didn't say why Reese did all of this. To him it was obvious. Reese wanted to prove that there was something he was better at. Besides hitting people.

"Then it's decided," Filch said with finality. "From now on, you will report to Reese when you work in the kitchen."

"But the head cook?"

"Resigned out of extreme embarrassment. Imagine working in a kitchen for thirty years and being outdone by a sixteen year old dish washer. We're calling it early retirement."

"Then Reese is head cook?" Anthony asked in amazement.

"The Head Chef," Filch said with amusement. "He will still take classes part time until he finally passes them all. His mother insists on that. But he is sixteen and legally qualifies as an adult."

"Cor. And I thought he was barmy."

* * *

"You're looking chipper this morning," Louis said as he sat down next to Malcolm.

Ginny smiled from across the table. "We were talking about his brother. It seems Reese was thrown out of school or something. If he's not going to school at Glen Levitt then he won't be visiting here all the time."

Louis nodded. "And why is he now frowning?"

Malcolm looked up. "Reese got a job in the kitchen. I guess he'll be visiting Millicent after he does all the dishes."

Louis shared Malcolm's frown. "I don't know Reese. I only met him twice, but he strikes me as the last person who would take a job."

_I know what he means. I expected Reese to end up as a dishwasher. But not willingly._


	18. School Night

A/N: Another apology to Mandraco. Chapter 13 was a typo. I meant to say this chapter, not that this chapter is confusing at all, but it places Malcolm in his element. The other option was Chapter 21, which is called Not Again. It may seems confusing but it really isn't. I even reread Chapter 13 after I read your e-mail. While I like the idea of tearing up the Hogwarts Express, it clearly did not qualify as a confusing chapter, unless you're wondering what happened to the trolley lady.

As I've warned people before, these notes are always written in the first half hour after I wake up. While I strive for accuracy, I hope to at least achieve coherence.

**Chapter 18: School Night**

"I'm tired of all this writing," Ron complained. "I've more work from one class than from all my classes last year."

"Complaining won't get it done," Hermione noted. "You really should try studying."

Harry gave them both a bemused look and went back to his potions homework.

They weren't the only one's busy. Dean and Seamus were huddled with Neville at another table, trying to get their Charms papers done. In fact, most of the tables were occupied by students and open books.

* * *

"Dennis?" Malcolm asked as the younger Creevey brother walked into the dorm room. Malcolm and his four roommates were huddled around a makeshift table. The common room was too crowded.

_He's supposed to be studying with his own year._

"I just thought . . ."

"You won't learn anything by being with us."

"Please. I have money."

There were a couple of smirks, then someone said he could stay. A sixth chair was pulled up to the table.

* * *

The first year Hufflepuffs were all sitting at one table while a fifth year helped them, explaining things carefully when any of them were confused about something. The same was being done for the other years as well. Sixth and seventh years did their work then helped out if they were needed. In Hufflepuff, homework was always a group effort.

* * *

The Ravenclaw girl glared at Michael Corner.

"Last Year it was that Ginny Weasley. Now it's Cho Chang. Get your act together, Corner or get another study group. You dragged our grade averages down last year and you won't do it again this year."

"It was only about Quidditch," Michael explained. "And I've already done my share of the research."

"Then you're not slacking this year?"

Michael smiled. "Cho doesn't date slackers."

* * *

"I'll see your five, Malcolm, and raise you five," Louis called out as he threw the copper coins into the pot.

"Too rich for me," the next player said. That left Dennis and Malcolm. Dennis threw in ten knuts to match the pot and Malcolm added his five and called.

Louis laid his cards down. "Two pair. Kings and Queens."

Dennis smiled as he laid his cards down. "Aces and Eights."

"Dead man's hand," Louis said as he acknowledged the better hand.

"Excuse me?" Dennis asked.

"You ain't never heard of the dead man's hand?"

"No."

"You're muggle born, right?" Louis watched Dennis nod. "Did you ever hear of Wild Bill Hickock?" Dennis nodded again. "Well, he had a rule that he never played poker with his back to the door. Somebody might come in that didn't like him, and shoot him in the back. Then one day he was invited to join in a game but the only seat left was with his back to the door. He broke his own rule and somebody who didn't like him came in and shot him in the back and killed him." Louis pointed to Dennis's cards. "The hand he was holding was Aces and Eights."

Dennis was smiling. "Then I won with a Dead Man's Hand?"

"No," Malcolm replied, "because I've got three fours."

Dennis frowned but one of the others told him not to worry. "It IS the first hand he's won all night."

Dennis, who was up by almost 10 sickles, nodded in agreement.

* * *

Snape cast the voice amplification spell, then looked directly at Dewey.

"You remember what you have to do first?'

Dewey nodded, and the Potions Professor stepped back into the shadows of the Slytherin common room. Dewey stepped into the light of the directional Lumos spell and adjusted the lower voice amplifier, in muggle terms a microphone. He then put on his sunglasses and leaned into the upper mike.

"Good Evening, And Welcome To Blues Night At Club Slytherin. Our first number is going out to our very own Severus Snape."

Dewey began to play a blues riff on the saxophone. He paused, then repeated the riff. When he finished, he leaned into the mike to sing.

"Myyyyyy love is like a - Fi-yuh

Your looooove is like a - cigarette

Myyyyyyy love is like a - Fi-yuh

Your looooove is like a - cigarette

I saw you stomp down on it, Baby

Tell Me. Tell Me. Tell Me.

How Bluuue can you get."

He turned and nodded. A second spotlight appeared, shining on Avery as he began playing the original riff on his bass guitar. Behind him, Graham Pritchard played a background rhythm on the drums.

* * *

"I can't keep my eyes open any more," Ron admitted. "This will have to do."

"Ron's right, Hermione. I don't think I can stay awake any longer either."

"Fine," Hermione said as she stifled a yawn "Well, maybe you're right."

* * *

"Okay. That's it," the Hufflepuff prefect said. "If you're not done, leave it for breakfast."

The fifth, sixth and seventh years that were still up, closed their books and went to join the rest of their housemates in slumber.

* * *

"Must finish. Must finish. Must finish." The Ravenclaw student muttered in her sleep. She would wake up in the common room in three hours with a stiff neck. She would wake anyone else who had passed out so they could go to their beds as well.

* * *

"I'm done for the night," Malcolm said as he threw down his cards. "With what I've lost, I think I'm done for the rest of the year."

_It's not that bad. I only had two sickle to start with. Good thing we're playing knut ante poker._

"Me, too," came the chorus.

"Thanks," Dennis said as he pocketed his winnings.

"How'd you do," Malcolm asked.

"I think I won back almost half of what I lost last week."

"See you next Thursday so we can get it back."

* * *

Avery was leaning into the mike, playing a mournful bass solo, singing his own version of the song:

"People got money

still got problems.

go to the doctor

and try to solve them.

anyway you look at it

it's still called the blues."

* * *

Dewey stood in front of Malcolm all glassy eyed. "I got it, Malcolm. I got the list."

"How much sleep did you get last night."

"Sleep? With all the homework I had. I think our entire house was up all night. I've got the list."

"For what."

"It's Hogsmeade weekend, tomorrow. I've got a list of stuff for you to buy."

Malcolm paused long enough to drag Dewey away from the entrance to the Great Hall.

"I thought Draco was going to buy that stuff for you."

"He gave me the money, you know, but he's been acting weird lately. It's like he has no interest in anything. I tried talking to him at breakfast and he told me he was preoccupied with his classes."

"He's a sixth year. Those guys get a lot of stuff."

"Yeah, but I heard that McGonagall gave him detention. He didn't hand in his homework. Twice."

"Draco? Maybe he's really Reese." Malcolm paused. "That would explain it. Dewey, Draco's acting exactly like Reese would. And I just heard that Reese actually got a paying job. While he's still going to school."

_Naw. That can't be true. Draco would never bother to get a job. He has too much money._

Dewey shook his head. "I gave up on Reese years ago. And I'm only twelve. But Draco is acting weird. I followed him to the boys bathroom . . ."

"So? He went to the boys bathroom."

"Yeah. I heard him crying. Either that or that girl that goes around haunting the stalls has a bad cold."

Malcolm was surprised. "He's crying again?"

Dewey was surprised. "He's done this before? Maybe we should cross him off the family list. He's becoming such a wimp."

"It could be a nervous breakdown. Ginny split up with him. His dad's in jail. And some of the people that he hangs out with . . ."

"Like us?"

Malcolm stopped in surprise and thought about what was said.

"Shut up, Dewey."

"It's you," Dewey complained. "Draco's freaking out because of you. I can't get on the team because of you. And I bet you're the reason Reese got a job." Dewey stormed away.

_I don't know why I got stuck with him as a brother. Oh, and I'd better tell him._

"Dewey." Malcolm called out. "McGonagall said it was cool. You can go."

Malcolm watched as his brother stopped in embarrassment, then turned around to apologize. "I'm sorry for some of the things I said, Malcolm. It's obvious you had nothing to do with Reese."

_Well, it is an apology._

* * *

Draco was making his prefect rounds when he saw a shadow ahead of him. He approached and the shadow became a figure in the darkness. It was Ginny Weasley.

"Draco?"

"You shouldn't be here."

"I needed to apologize. I was wrong. All these weeks I was trying to think of how to tell you."

"It doesn't matter." Draco paused. "It's over, Ginny. It was fun while it lasted, but . . ."

"Things change," added Ginny. "I know. I didn't want us to . . . I want us to leave as friends."

"You're dating Dean, I've noticed."

A soft giggle. "He's nice. He was always waiting for us to . . . end."

A wry smirk. "But you don't really like him."

"You know who I like."

"Then tell him."

Ginny looked confused. "Draco, I was talking about you."

"No. You were only using my name." Draco leaned into Ginny. "It's time to face the world, Love. Your crush never ended. I was a good excuse. And those other boys when I wasn't around. I'm the bad boy, Ginny. You can't be around me anymore."

Ginny stood there, her face inches from his. "He doesn't want me, Draco. He doesn't even know I exist."

Light laughter filled the air. "You'll have to tell him. He doesn't know anything unless it's placed right in front of him."

A soft chuckle. "I don't believe I'm taking advice from you. How do I tell him?"

"A hint, here and there, to give him the idea. Then choose your moment. A celebration perhaps. Then tell him this."

Draco closed the short gap and kissed Ginny with as much passion as he could muster. Ginny returned the favour with full heart. They broke apart and Draco stroked her chin with his hand.

"That was goodbye. The next time you kiss like that, let it be hello."

Ginny looked at the departing figure. "You missed your calling, Draco Malfoy. You should have been a poet."

He turned back. "Thank you for that beautiful thought. If I can ever return the favour . . ."

Ginny smiled and Draco gave her a questioning smirk.

"Could you kiss me goodbye again. A few more times?"

* * *

Ginny felt like she had been stabbed in the heart. She remembered Draco's words as she heard Harry's accusations. "It had to be him." "You can't be around me anymore." "We know about the necklace." "I'm the bad boy."

Her voice was a faint whisper as she said one word. "Why?"

* * *

Draco paced the common room. It had been two days, and no one had come to question him. The only person who was insisting on questioning Draco was Harry Potter. He couldn't figure it out.

"Dewey," he said cheerfully as his cousin walked in. "Did you find out about the rumours?"

"Yeah. You made them up. I listened in on the teachers. They know it wasn't you because you didn't go into town." Dewey glared at Draco. "What's wrong with you anyway? If you did it, why would you want to be blamed? And if you didn't do it . . . why would you want to be blamed? I know this Doctor Spencer at Saint Mungo's. You might want to talk to her."

"YOU DON"T UNDERSTAND," Draco shouted. He calmed down and added, "it's important that I know what people think of me, what they think I'm doing."

"They think you're crazy, and that you're losing it. Is that good enough?"

Draco gave Dewey a strange look and stormed away. Dewey shook his head. Something was definitely wrong. Then Dewey smiled. He was still young enough to remember what it was like to spy on everyone, but this time he wouldn't snitch on them.

* * *

The red-haired girl sat atop the astronomy tower, knowing no one would bother her. She corrected that thought to almost no one as she spied a tawny owl flying in her direction. The owl landed and became a certain fourth year Gryffindor.

"Hi, Ginny."

"Harry insists it has to be Draco," Ginny hissed at Malcolm.

"Potter insists that every bad thing in the world happens because of Draco. He even blames Reese on Draco."

"Then you don't think that he . . . you know?"

_It's not Draco's style. That plan wouldn't work anyway, even if everything went right._

"You know Draco. If he really wanted to bring a cursed necklace into Hogwarts, he'd have it wrapped up with some stuff from Honeydukes, then ask me to fly down and get the package."

Ginny hugged Malcolm. "I knew it. You're right. All he had to do is ask you." She paused. "If you had known it was a cursed necklace you wouldn't have done it? Malcolm?"

"That's why he would have to wrap it up with some stuff from Honeydukes."

"That WAS a joke. Wasn't it?"

"Yeah."

"I mean, honestly. You were joking."

"I said yeah. Don't you believe me?"

Ginny looked hard at Malcolm. "That's a trick question."

"Look, Draco's having problems. I can't talk about them. You know about his family and the Death Eaters and . . . You-Know-Who."

"I also know that Draco doesn't have the dark mark. He hasn't joined them . . . yet."

_I don't what to ask how she knows that. Heck, yes I do._

"How do you know that? Have you two . . ."

"NO."

"Sorry." A long pause. "How do you know?"

"The sleeves of his robes were pulled up while we were . . . talking . . . the other night."

Malcolm nodded. "You must have mumbled a lot?"

Ginny smiled. "He was always a great kisser. I'll miss him."

"Miss him?"

"We broke up. Permanently. We both know now that it can't work."

"And when are you seeing him again?"

"I'm not. I told you. We broke up."

"I believe you."

"THAT was a trick answer."

"Sorry," the grinning boy said.

"No. I'm sorry, Malcolm. You just came by to say hello and I threw all my worries at you."

"Then can I ask you a real question?"

Smirking. "You? A serious question?"

No smile. "Yeah. It's just that I can talk to you. I wanted to know what you think."

"About what?"

"This."

Malcolm told her what his plan was. Ginny looked up in surprise. Malcolm was serious. And she knew exactly what her answer should be.

"I think it's a wonderful idea."


	19. Halloween

A/N: Congrats to Mandraco for getting through finals. I hope you enjoy your summer holiday.

As for Malcolm's plan, it is revealed at the end of this chapter. An apology in advance: nothing explodes as a result.

**Chapter 19: Hallowe'en**

_IT'S HERE. IT'S FINALLY HERE. IT'S HERE. IT'S HERE. IT'S HERE._

"Happy Hallowe'en, Malcolm," Hermione Granger said as she passed by at breakfast.

"Is it the end of October? Already?"

Hermione stopped to smile. "Malcolm. The way you said that was almost believable."

"I can't help it, Hermione. This may be the last chance I'll have to see her this year. I can't help it."

"You said that already, Malcolm. You're repeating yourself."

"I can't help it," Malcolm replied as Hermione turned away laughing.

Colin Creevey slipped onto the bench across from Malcolm.

"Have you been to sleep yet?"

"Yeah. Madam Pomfrey made me take a potion. She says I'm too nervous. I need to calm down."

"I should have thought of that. I barely slept myself. I was surprised you asked me to join you."

"You're bringing your camera?"

"And plenty of film. I'm taking pictures of everything. Especially of two people dancing."

"Thanks."

"No. Thank you, Malcolm. This is an opportunity I would never have had if it weren't for you. Who else is going?"

"Louis, our exchange student. His grandfather is sending him to school full time. It's a boarding school. In France."

Colin frowned. "How many schools are in France? How does Louis feel? You share a dorm with him, and he barely talks to anyone, except those girls who always hang around him."

Malcolm shrugged his shoulders. "It's weird. He stopped greasing his hair. That makes him look more like me than he used to. And all the girls hang around him. They don't even look at me."

"You're not French," Denise said as she walked behind him.

Colin snorted. "You've got a girlfriend already. And everyone knows it. Why are you upset?"

"I'm an idiot."

"No argument from me," Colin said, ducking the bread roll.

"Happy Hallowe'en," Ginny said as she reached from behind and kissed Malcolm on the cheek. "Hi, Colin. Is Ron here?"

"No, but Hermione is."

Ginny smiled. "That two pieces of good news today. I'll talk to you later."

Dean Thomas clapped Malcolm on the shoulder. "Ginny told me. Good luck."

"Thanks. And congratulations on making the team."

"Malcolm, " Matthew Zeller said as he sat down next to the older boy. "First, I forgive you for not inviting me to the Beauxbatons Cotillion this year. I understand your reasons. Second, this is my gift to you. Don't try to pay me."

"Gift?" Malcolm looked in disbelief as the second year handed him a small box.

"Returning a favour." Matthew added softly, "you taught me how to make friends."

He left quickly before Malcolm could say anything else.

Another second year Gryffindor, Jenny, ran up to Malcolm and hugged him. "Good Luck," she shouted and ran off again.

Malcolm watched as Dewey approached. "What do you want?"

"I won't come if you don't want me to."

"You came here and I didn't want you to. Why stop now?"

"You didn't tell me."

"I didn't tell anybody. Except Ginny. And Colin. And Matthew Zeller. And Louis, 'cause he's going with us. Anyway, Madame Maxime told me to invite you. That girl likes the way you play Quidditch."

_She only asked. But it'll make Dewey feel better if He thinks I was forced to let him come._

Dewey nodded his head. "Okay. I'll go."

Malcolm eyed his brother suspiciously. "No arguments? No nasty remarks?"

"Naw. Phillippa told me how she asked if I could be invited and she was excited that you said yes. I figure if you'd lie about that to make me feel better, you must really be in bad shape. Is Colin bringing his camera? Because I want copies of all those pictures WHEN YOU MAKE A FOOL OF YOURSELF."

Smiling, Dewey turned around and went back to his own table.

"Another vote of confidence," Colin said helpfully.

"Dewey's been writing to a girl?"

"It happens," Colin assured him. "I've talked to a few girls myself. And some have even talked back." He looked across the table. "I was making a joke."

"Sorry, you reminded me of something." Malcolm leaned across to whisper to Colin. "Did you ever have strange dreams? Dreams that seemed so real that you would swear they were real."

"Yes. Until I wake up. Then they become dreams again."

"Mine don't."

Colin stopped all pretense of eating breakfast.

"Don't? As in don't become dreams again?"

"Yeah. They're still around. Like they were memories. And they seem . . . innocent, but for some reason I always wake up scared." Malcolm paused. "I had one last night."

"Last night? But Madam Pomfrey gave you a potion."

"Yeah. And I woke up anyway. I fell asleep again right away but I was awake just long enough . . ."

"What happened?"

Malcolm's face became worried. "Not much. And I didn't understand it. Luna Lovegood was leaning over me and she told me she read my horoscope."

Colin's voice echoed Malcolm's fear. "And?"

"And that was it. I woke up shaking and the potion knocked me out again a few seconds later."

"That is a strange dream even for you." Colin looked up. "And this looks like an omen."

Malcolm followed Colin's eyes and saw Luna Lovegood walking toward them, a dreamy look on her face.

_She always has that look on her face. I could understand it if she did drugs but that's her natural look._

Luna leaned over Malcolm and smiled. "I read your horoscope. It says you will see a new day." She began walking away then turned back. "Ginny told me. Congratulations."

"That was truly weird," Colin said as they watch Luna walk away. "What other dreams have you had?"

* * *

"Monsieur Renault. Please come in."

Louis walked into the headmaster's office. "Professor Dumbledore. You wanted to see me."

"Not me. Not that I would not enjoy your company. Someone else wishes to meet you before you leave tonight." Dumbledore extended his hand to indicate the other person in the room. "I believe you have heard of Monsieur Le Clerc."

Monsieur Le Clerc, a well dressed wizard with longish grey hair, bowed slightly. "Bonjour, Louis."

Nervously, Louis returned the bow. "Bonjour, Granpere'."

"You 'ave learned French?"

"My old man, Pop, taught me when I was a kid."

"You will not see much of 'im for a while. His past 'as caught up with 'im."

"He's in jail?"

"Non. You are in school. As you should 'ave been. And Henri iz learning a new trick. It iz called 'onesty."

Dumbledore stood up. "Perhaps I should leave the two of you alone to talk."

"There iz no need," Monsieur Le Clerc told him. "I am sure my grandson would like to show me around your school before we leave."

He motioned for Louis to follow him as they left the headmaster's office. Once they had left Louis asked what his grandfather would like to see. The old man responded by taking the boy's chin in his hand.

"You sound like your father when you talk. And your eyes hold the same fire in them. But this chin. This was your mother's." As the boy's lips flickered upward at the remark, he added, "and you have her smile. When your mother smiled she brightened whatever room she was in."

* * *

"I am sorry," the old man said. "You will be missing the Quidditch Match because of me."

"I've not seen much of the sport," Louis admitted. "It will be a small matter." He looked away from the Quidditch pitch. "Thank you, Grandfather. For taking the time to talk to me. I was worried and did not know what to expect."

"You are my daughter's son. How could I do any less. I am dragging you into a new environment. The least you deserve is some warning of what to expect. And tonight you will see everyone at their finest." He paused to look closely at his grandson. "Louis, you are my namesake, and for that alone I would love you. But you have flourished in the midst of adversity. Please understand that I am doing this because I want what is best for you, regardless of what you want to do. But the more you know, the more you will know what it is you truly want to do. You will learn things at Beauxbatons that you would not learn even here."

Louis smiled appreciatively. "And there would be things here that I would never learn at Beauxbatons."

Grandfather laughed at the retort. "That is good. Throw my words back into my face. You are correct, of course. But here, they will not teach you about your family, your history, where we have been. You may even learn to like Quidditch."

The old man and the young man walked slowly back to the castle in a roundabout way. They were in no hurry. The conversation Louis had was mostly small talk, telling trivia about events in his life and listening to anecdotes about his mother, and his grandmother, and cousins he never knew he had. As they passed the lake, Louis related the tale of falling into a river while fishing. He remembered being part of a family that wasn't his.

"Why did my father marry my mother?"

The old man took the question in stride. It was as though he had been expecting it.

"Your father was a cad, a scoundrel, a ne'er-do-well. Your mother was the apple of her father's eye. They married because they fell in love."

"And?" Louis noticed the abrupt stop.

"I hated your father. That is why they crossed the ocean to live. I refused to believe he was good enough for my darling." The old man was crying. "When she fell ill, he came to me. I turned him away. When she died, he asked me to take care of you."

Louis Le Clerc fell to his knee before his grandson. "Forgive me. I said no. My pride had been hurt and I could not see the gift she had left behind. He took you away and I heard nothing more. Everyday I hoped an owl would come. Every day I prayed he would contact me in some way and ask again so I could relent. But I could never bring myself to make the first step. I am a coward."

Louis didn't know why. He was hugging his grandfather and he was crying as well.

* * *

The remainder of the walk was in silence. Until Grandfather dared to ask. "Can you forgive me?"

"Why?"

"For being a fool. That is what your Grandmother calls me. The Old Fool. Ever since the day I turned you away."

"Father never tried to talk to you again?"

"Never."

"Then more the fool, he," Louis said wryly.

"He has yet to talk to me," Grandfather noted. "I fear I hurt him too deeply."

Louis paused. "Then . . . how . . ."

Grandfather's frown became a slight smile. "The Minister himself came from Paris to see me. He told me I was a fool (my wife was there and she agreed) and said I had to take charge of you. It seems you have very influential friends."

"I do?"

"Don't you?"

Both had to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. And both agreed that it was their duty now to make up for lost time. Grandfather even promised to apologize at the first chance he had to meet his son-in-law.

"And who is this?" Grandfather asked as they approached a very tall man.

Louis grinned. "This is Professor Hagrid, Grandfather. He teaches Care for Magical Creatures. Professor Hagrid, may I introduce my grandfather and legal guardian, whom I am also named after, Monsieur Louis Le Clerc."

Hagrid looked down with a confused look on his face. "I don' know half o' what ye said but I'm guessin' it was an introduction." He held out a hand to the old man. "I take it yer Louis' Grampa."

Louis Renault blushed with the understanding that he had been speaking French the entire time. "Sorry, Prof. Hagrid, dis is my Mom's old man. He's a Louis, too. He's doin' 'rent detail on me now. "

The grandfather eyed his grandson carefully. "They told me you spoke English. It seems they were wrong."

* * *

Malcolm stood in front of the mirror and tried combing his hair a fourth time. It didn't work. He messed it up again. He was trying for number five when Dennis came into the boys shower room.

"It's here, Malcolm. Just like they promised."

"Great."

Malcolm ran out of the boys room, his towel wrapped around his waist and went straight to his dorm. Dennis courteously pick up his clothes and toiletries and followed him. He walked into the dorm room, and Malcolm was already half dressed. He finished buttoning up the shirt and began tucking it into his trousers. Ten minutes later he was dressed in his tuxedo and trying to comb his hair again.. He gave up and combed it the way he normally did.

"Dang. I forgot to get a top hat."

His dorm mate, Alex, pointed at the box under the night stand by Malcolm's bed. "You've that hat."

Malcolm smiled. "That should work. Thanks for reminding me."

He tore open the box and pulled out a dark brown fedora hat. He started to take out his wand but decided not to change the color. As he put it on, he heard Dennis say from the doorway, "He's decent, you can come in."

Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley stood there laughing. Malcolm turned and smiled, throwing the hat on his head. "What do you think? I'm putting on the Ritz?"

Hermione walked up to Malcolm and took the hat off. She brushed his hair so that a swath of it hung down over his forehead and put the hat pack on. "There," she told him. "Now you look like Gary Cooper."

"You look SUPER," Dennis said with a laugh.

"Almost forgot," Malcolm said. He went to the small box on his night table, emptied it and put the contents in his inside coat pocket. "I'm ready."

"Don't forget your wand," Alex called. He used his own wand to float Malcolm's wand to the door.

"Thanks, again."

Malcolm was down the stairs in a second. He smiled at the round of applause he received then turned to Professor Flitwick. "I'm ready Professor. Where is everyone."

"Dewey and Colin are waiting in the Main Hall."

"And Louis?"

"His grandfather took him early. So they could get better acquainted."

"Is he nice," Malcolm asked as they left the common room. "Louis's grandfather, I mean."

"Very nice. And we share one trait in common it turns out. We both wince when we hear what Louis does to the English language. He makes you sound like an Oxford Dean."

_That's the nicest insult I've ever received._

"You're coming with us, Professor?"

Flitwick grinned broadly as he looked up at Malcolm. "I have to. I am normally required to be at our own feast because I am a teacher, but there was a change and I had to alter the portkey at the last minute. Originally, Louis and his Grandfather were supposed to go but not come back. That was Five going and Three coming back. You can always cheat with a set portkey and add people but you can't cheat and not have enough. So I reversed the destination numbers because that was the fastest way to solve the immediate problem. You will grab my arm while I grab the portkey with Dewey and Colin. That will get us there, and I will have plenty of time to adjust the portkey for our return." He chuckled to himself. "Clever work on such short notice, don't you think?"

"Professor, can I get special lessons on how to make portkeys."

Fliwick shook his head. "I keep telling you. After you pass your OWLS. I teach this at the NEWTS level. And no exceptions. Especially for you."

_Jeezel. You'd think he doesn't trust me. It's not like I'd abuse it. Like the way I don't abuse being an animagus. Much._

"Is everyone ready?" Flitwick asked as they trotted sown the main stairway. "Grab hold. The faster we get there, the more time we have."

Everyone grabbed hold as they were directed to and in a moment they were whisked away.

Draco watched them disappear from the entrance of the Great Hall. The feast was not ready to start for at least two more hours but he did not feel at all happy. Pansy walked up to him, kissed his cheek and asked how he was. He said he was fine and had to smile. Pansy, in her own way, did care for him, and he could not help but appreciate that.

* * *

Malcolm looked up at the same scene as last year. Before he could say anything, a young girl ran up and grabbed Dewey's hand. They started to run off but Colin yelled "Wait." He pulled out his camera and the girl suddenly waved her hands at a small group of children. Two boys and two more girls ran up. They formed ranks for the group picture of the defending champions in the Second Annual Samonois Quidditch Competition.

Colin took the picture and the group scattered. Professor Flitwick tipped his wizard's hat, and departed as well. He clearly had friends of his own to meet. That left Malcolm and Colin. Colin had turned back to look at Malcolm and stopped to stare at the school grounds. He slowly turned in place to get the full view.

"I haven't felt like this since I first saw Hogwarts. This place is beautiful."

Malcolm smiled. "Fell free to take all the pictures you want. I'll meet you inside."

Colin shook his head. "I can get pictures of this from a book. The pictures I want are inside. The things that won't always be there." he shook his head. "Sorry, that sounds stupid."

"Yeah, kinda. If I didn't know anything about photography."

_And if I didn't know anything about Colin. Hey, I didn't even make a joke. It must be that maturity thing, again._

"Lead on, Malcolm."

With a laugh, Malcolm lead the way through the filigreed entranceway. He knew what Colin's reaction would be when they entered the Grand Hall with the sun shining through all the stained glass windows. He looked around the hall for familiar faces and spied Professor Flitwick in the distance, greeting a man in the teacher's robes of Beauxbatons. Apparently, Flitwick had a standing invitation.

Colin tapped his shoulder. "Someone's waving to us."

"That's Camilla Umbridge."

"She must take after her father," Colin snorted.

"You know about Fleur Delacour and Bill Weasley?"

"Yeah?"

"She' engaged to Fleur's brother. Camilla tricked her mom so I could come here to see Gabrielle."

"And where is Gabrielle?" Colin saw Malcolm suddenly start, then walk away as though in a trance. "Oh, there she is." Colin took out his camera. It was time to take pictures.

* * *

"Give them a couple more minutes," Camilla told Colin. "They'll stay like that then they'll start saying such sweet things that you would mistake sugar for salt by comparison."

"I can wait," Colin said. "I know what's coming up."

"Then Malcolm told you about Samonois? About the New Year Celebration."

"And how Gabrielle explained it to him in her beautiful voice with her perfect English and that wonderful French accent."

"Later I will tell you how Gabrielle described her evening with Malcolm. How he was the perfect gentleman. So polite. So kind. So caring."

Both looked at each in understanding. Jean Paul stood behind them, chuckling. A noise was heard and everyone in the hall turned to watch the horseman ride into the hall.

Jean Paul tapped Colin on the shoulder. "You will want to watch thiz."

Colin pointed at Malcolm. "You'll want to watch this."

* * *

"It has been so long," Gabrielle told Malcolm. They both ignored the crowds that turned to watch the beginning of the ceremony. Surprisingly, they also failed to notice Colin regularly taking pictures of them.

"I couldn't think of anything else but you these past two months. Gabrielle, I need to ask you something."

"Anything."

"Things are bad right now."

"I know. They are not as bad, here. But they are not good either."

"And this won't mean anything for a few years."

"That you love me. You showed me, this day last year, what your love for me means."

Gabrielle smiled as Malcolm blushed and Colin took closeups.

"But that was for show."

"For show? It didn't mean anything."

"Not to them," Malcolm said with a gesture that meant everyone else in the world.

Gabrielle smiled in delighted puzzlement. "But to us it meant everything."

"I want them to understand, Gabrielle. And I only know one way to say it."

At that moment, someone shouted in French. "Long Live The King."

Malcolm reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold ring, engraved to look like overlapping feathers. He showed it, and dropped to one knee.

"Gabrielle, when the time is proper, will you marry me?"

Gabrielle spoke no answer but slide her hand forward so that the ring was put on her finger. Malcolm barely stood up when she kissed him. Neither of them saw the flashing camera or the smattering of applause from the small crowd they had attracted. It was Camilla who reached out and gently disturbed their embrace.

She told them. "It's time for the first dance."

Colin jumped in front of them and took a picture of the two couples, Malcolm and Gabrielle, Jean Paul and Camilla, as they made their way to dance the first dance. For only those whose love has been plaited may dance with the King of Samonois.


	20. The Feast

**Chapter 20: The Feast**

"Orange Potatoes?" Anthony asked.

"They're Sweet Potatoes," Reese said as he went to oversee the rest of the preparations. He was making sure that everything was correct. Hogwarts had a feast. And so would he. He made sure all the different meals were cooked. Serving would be a small nightmare but he had everyone make sure of their own tasks. This was his magnum opus. Until Bonfire Day.

The first student took up his tray and walked to the serving line and stared. There were five servers there. Each had at least three dishes for the student to choose from. The vegetable lady had five. It was a buffet. He ended up with corn, squash, cranberry relish, turkey medallions, London broil, a lot of tiny chicken legs in a spicy sauce and corm bread. He chose both apple cider and pumpkin juice (obtained from a special source) as his drink.

That first student had so much food that the last student had started eating before he came close to finishing. He had just sat back, feeling completely stuffed when it was announced that second helpings were available. Suddenly, he had an urge for a few more of those chicken wings.

Reese had learned his crowd perfectly. Almost all of the teachers and the older students had stuffed themselves, but the younger ones, always picky, ate just enough but only of what they liked. They were the ones to jump up when dessert was announced. Their cheers drowned out the groans of their elders.

"An amazing meal," Headmaster Filch acknowledged at the end. "How can I ever thank you, Reese?"

Reese smiled. His plan worked. They wouldn't even have to run and they could be at Hogwarts well before ten. His smile grew when Filch gave his permission. That was when Anthony found out about Reese's plan.

"All of this was just so you could go see your girlfriend?"

"It worked. Are you coming?"

"I'm full."

Reese shrugged. "You can walk it off. Or stay here and clean dishes."

Anthony threw his apron over an empty chair. "I'm ready."

As Hector Filch waved them off, he smiled to himself. The exercise would do both boys good. And the Aurors knew to keep an eye out for them and to not let them into the school. He would wait for the boys to come back, and let them in himself. He would also promise to mention what happened to Argus, so that he could have a good laugh as well.

* * *

Malcolm and Gabrielle walked past the window and looked out on the night sky. The moon shining, the stars twinkling, the snitch whizzing by like a firefly on steroids.

"There's Dewey. The green blur chasing the snitch. Dang, he lost it."

"It is too early," Gabrielle said. "The best games are the long ones."

Malcolm nodded, then pointed again. "Look. They have people in the stands. That's Professor Flitwick there." He turned around. "Is this a new tradition?"

Camilla answered the question. "By popular demand. Professor Fantaine was asked to cast his spell again at the beginning of the school year. By the first free Saturday, everyone knew he had said yes."

"And Madame Maxime approved it?"

"I never approve anything," Madame Maxime said from behind them. "Zees things grow of their own accord. Bur zey are best when zey first start, no?"

Camilla laughed. "In five years, there will be traditional teams and traditional colors and formal this and that."

"Too true," Madame Maxime noted. "And you are off to where?"

"East wing," Jean Paul suggested.

"Who's playing? Le Sorcerers Mal?" Malcolm smiled when he was told they were back.

* * *

"English?" The young woman asked?

"Yes," Colin admitted. "I'm a student at Hogwarts."

"Oooh, an upper class Brit?"

"I'm muggle born."

The girl smiled. "So was Mam." She held out her hand. "Lizzie Burton. From Down Under. And why the smirk?"

"I spent my holiday there. Student Exchange Program."

Lizzie's eyes lit up. "At the University? Tell me about the tower. Did they ever put the staircase in? It was a task climbing that ladder."

"They did," Colin laughed. He paused. "I was here with friends but I lost them."

"I'm with the Traveling People. We're playing in the Fountain Garden. Traditional music."

Colin looked around the room they were in. The music sounded classical. "And why are you here?"

"We alternate with another band. I have to be back in twenty minutes. And I know the bartender here from last year."

"Then you're here every year? This is my first time?"

"Four years straight." Lizzie had a thought. "You said you were from Hogwarts. There was a boy here last year. He wowed the crowd during the first dance."

Colin nodded. "Malcolm. He invited me."

"And the girl?"

"He asked her to marry him . . . after they graduate. That's why he invited me. To take pictures of it."

"You take pictures much?"

"I hope to be a professional someday?"

"How about tonight?" Lizzie smiled at his surprise. "It's nothing big. Take a few publicity shots while we're playing. Good crowd reaction stuff."

"And you'll pay me? How much?"

"I need to talk to Brian. He handles the finances. But I can guarantee an invitation for next year. Or at least a vendor pass."

Colin smiled at the thought of being able to come back. "It's a deal."

Lizzie threw her arm around Colin and led him to the Fountain Garden and behind the stage. There he met Brian, who offered two Galleons plus the cost of the film and processing, and an extra pass. He also met Devon, Brian's son, who was ten.

Colin was also given something that became very special to him. It was a parchment verifying that he was at the cotillion as part of the "professional staff".

* * *

Reese was annoyed. They actually had guards around the place. The only places they weren't were where there was no access. Anthony, on the other hand was highly amused. He had already guessed why the headmaster had agreed so quickly to let them come here. He sat on a large rock while Reese fumed at some way to get up the steep cliff.

"Anthony? Reese? What are you doing here?"

Anthony turned around. He recognized the boy. It was Colin's brother.

"Dennis? I should ask you the same question."

Dennis shrugged. "I like to sneak out whenever I can."

Reese was excited. "You have a way to get out?"

"Yes."

"Then that means you must have a way to get back in?"

"It's the same way I get out."

"Can you show us?"

Dennis grew quiet. "If I show you, you've got to promise not to tell."

Both Glen Levitt students promised.

"And you've really got to never tell anybody. If they found out, they'd yell at you two, but I'd become an example. I'd get more detentions than Malcolm."

Reese smiled. "It's no problem. As long as we don't tell, then we can also get in anytime we want to."

Dennis nodded. "Yeah, that's right. Ok, follow me."

They followed Dennis a short way to a culvert that was out of sight of almost everything. Then Dennis showed them how he was able to get in and out of the school. Both Anthony and Reese thought it was cool. (And Reese never did tell anyone.)

* * *

The green figure raced through the night air. Other figures, blue and green, concentrated on the pale white ball, the quaffle. Dewey was after faster game. He ducked his head as a red blur came racing toward him but never lost sight of his quarry. Then it flashed it's firefly flicker. The next time it flashed, it was in Dewey's gloved hand.

Cheers rang out throughout the stadium and Dewey realized that at least a hundred people had come to watch. He was thankful he did not know beforehand, and landed his broomstick quickly, as though embarrassed people had noticed him.

Then he was mobbed by his teammates as they celebrated. The girl, Phillipa, kissed him. But then she also kissed everyone else on the team. And Dewey, hot and sweaty, found himself being led to the showers.

A half-hour later, he was led back into the castle by his teammates, clean once again, and confronted by Professor Flitwick.

"You played very well, Master Dewey. And if they do not place you in Saturday's game, then Slytherin deserves to lose."

"I'm not sure, but I think they want me to stay here."

They shared a chuckle, and Flitwick waved him away. "Go with your friends, my boy. You don't want to hang around some old teacher. You want to talk to young girls and learn a new language."

As Dewey left, a wide grin on his face, Doctor Fantaine leaned down to talk to Professor Flitwick.

"You never learned a new language, Mon Ami."

Flitwick laughed. "I never learned the old one either."

* * *

"Me dad says I'm off to Hogwarts next year," Devon asked. "What's it like?"

"It's a huge musty old castle with towers and dungeons and high stone walls."

"Any Dragons?"

"No. But we do have a Giant Squid."

Devon snorted. "A squid."

"And a Forbidden Forest," Colin added casually. "And that's not to laugh at."

"Is it fun?"

"Most times. It would be better, except for . . . certain things."

Devon nodded. "I know what you mean. Dad's been careful about where he agrees to play. We haven't played in Britain in almost three years. And we haven't even been there this year."

Colin patted the boy's shoulder. "Things will get better."

"I know that too," Devon told him. "I've been reading about him. The Chosen One. He'll defeat HIM."

Colin noted the almost worshipful tone the boy used. "Someone will. But your dad's getting on stage. It's back to work for me."

Almost gratefully, he went back to taking pictures. Showing the band while also showing the cheering crowd.

* * *

Midnight came. One feast ended and another began.

"Thank you for coming," Millicent said as she kissed Reese goodbye.

"I'll see you soon," Reese told her as Argus Filch and an Auror grabbed him and dragged him out of the broom closet.

"Not if I can help it," Filch said as they forced Reese out the main door and down to the front gates.

As the feast officially ended, Anthony let out a sigh. The last thing he wanted to do was walk back to his own school in the middle of the night. He had eaten a full meal before he came here, then stuffed himself again.

"I don't want to move."

"You can stay the night," Euan Abercrombie offered. "The first years have a spare bed."

"Ay," Angus Armstrong admitted. "And it's yearnin' to be used." It's jest yer size."

"You're Hagrid's son?" Anthony asked.

"Not," Angus answered, "But I'll not let ye say anythin' bad abou' Uncle Rubeus."

Anthony frowned. "You are joking. Right?"

"'Bout everythin' but the bed."

"Then yer on."

Angus frowned. "Yer no' makin' fun o' me?"

As they walked to Gryffindor Tower, Anthony had to ask. "How did you end up being friends with Euan?"

"It were Dennis Creevey," Angus said. "He introduced us."

"And how did you meet Dennis?"

"On the train. I was openin' the door to go to the next car. He knocks me down an' slams the door closed, jest as a red light shone through that very window, followed by a thunderclap."

Anthony nodded. "I remember that. Malcolm said it was a Weasley Thunderstorm."

"Ye were there?"

"I was with Euan. I even got to light a couple of the fireworks."

Angus looked at Anthony with awe and admiration.

* * *

"Where do we sit," Malcolm asked as they returned to the Grand Hall for the feast.

Camille pulled out her invitation card and tapped it with her wand. "We managed to get a reserved table. That's still a sign of prominence but not like being at the High Table." They followed the card as it flew birdlike to where they were supposed to sit, an Oval table for ten people. Then Malcolm remembered.

"Where's everyone else?"

Gabrielle tapped his shoulder and pointed to one side of the high table, where the school's teachers usually sat. Professor Flitwick was sitting there next to the teacher he been seen talking to earlier that evening.

"That's one," Malcolm said. "And I know he's not coming to join us."

"Too bad we could not join him," Gabrielle said as she squeezed Malcolm's arm.

"Malcolm," Jean Paul called. He pointed to one of the balconies, where the musicians gathered to eat. Colin was on the rail, taking pictures of the scene below him. The four watched as Colin turned around. He was talking to someone, waved his hand, then took one last look at the crowd below before going to join whomever it was.

"That's two," Camilla noted. "To have an empty seat at your table is an insult to the King."

"And Dewey makes three," Malcolm noted. "And what about the other three chairs. Who's sitting there?"

Camilla's invitation fluttered on the table and she looked down in mild surprise. "It seems the seating arrangements have been changed."

"How can you tell?" Malcolm asked as Jean Paul snorted in laughter.

"I apologize, mon ami, but did you not notice. Zere are now eleven chairs around zis table."

_He would have to state the obvious._

"There," Gabrielle said as she nodded her head. "Our fellow guests arrive. And there is Dewey."

Malcolm looked at the gaggle of twelve-year-olds heading toward the table. All of them had on their school robes. "Where's Dewey?"

_What's he doing in Beauxbatons robes?_

"Malcolm, we won," Dewey said as he sat down, his teammates sitting as well. The boy next to him said something to Jean Paul and Dewey looked at Malcolm. "What did Marcel say?"

"The same thing you did, but he's going into more detail."

Dewey got up and walked over to Malcolm. "I need a favor," he whispered.

"Sure, but why the blue robes."

"My old ones got a little dirty. And torn."

"Okay, and the favor?"

"I want to thank Phillippa for asking if you would invite me again."

"Go ahead. She knows English."

"No, Malcolm. She's been teaching me some words in French, they all have, but I want to thank her so she knows I mean it."

Malcolm nodded. "Okay, here's what you say. 'I am grateful.' It's noisy and that will get her attention, then when she's listening you'll say, 'I am grateful you asked if I could come.' And here's how you say it."

Malcolm whispered the words to Dewey and Dewey whispered them back. Malcolm corrected his mistakes and Dewey whispered them again. When Malcolm nodded, Dewey went back to his seat and waited for the proper moment. When there was a lull in the conversation and Marcel had finished relating the highlights of match for the third time, Dewey leaned forward to speak to the girl sitting on the other side of Marcel from him.

"Phillipa?"

"Oui?"

Everyone at the table politely held their silence so Dewey could speak.

"Phillippa, Je T'aime. Je T'aime De Tout Mon Coeur."

Phillippa literally knocked Marcel out of the way and grabbed Dewey into a hug. "Je t'aime, Dewey." Then she kissed him.

_Isn't love wonderful._

* * *

"Is everyone here?" Professor Flitwick asked as the first rays of the morning sun shown into the Grand Hall. Most of the guests had long since departed. There were a few late revelers but they would be gone soon as well. With Flitwick were Malcolm and Gabrielle. Jean Paul and Camilla were there to say their last goodbyes as well. Colin was dropped off by some musicians, one with a sleepwalking child in tow. And Dewey stood there. Only Phillippa and Marcel were still awake to bid him goodbye.

"Phillippa, about the t'aime stuff?"

Phillippa grinned as did Marcel. "I know," she said in French. "We all did. We all saw you talk to Malcolm. And we saw him grinning when you said my name." She turned to Gabrielle. "Please. You tell him in English what I said. You may love Malcolm but I do not trust him."

Gabrielle translated everything word for word, including the part about trust.

"Thanks, Phillippa, for asking for me to come."

"You are welcome," Phillippa said, this time in English. They shook hands.

"Dewey," she called as he turned to go. She leaned into him and whispered, "Je t'aime," and kissed him on the cheek.

Smiling, she and Marcel turned and ran laughing back to their dorms. Dewey stood there, a slightly glazed look on his face, his hand holding his cheek.

"TILL NEXT YEAR," he called out and waved.

They turned back and waved to him, then continued running from the hall.

"And a good time was had by all," Colin said wistfully.

"I'm sorry it's over, too," Malcolm added. He kissed Gabrielle goodbye and announced he was ready to leave."

"Um, we have a problem," Flitwick announced. "I had such a wonderful time, I forgot to re-tune the portkey. It's still set to bring five people back to Hogwarts."

"How long will it take to fix it?" Colin asked.

"I can do it in a couple of hours, but I need some things. I know I have them in my office . . ."

_I have a great idea._

"Professor, how about this. Someone, like Gabrielle, maybe," Malcolm looked at her hopefully, "could volunteer to come with us back to Hogwarts, and I could give her a tour of the school while you reset the portkey."

"A wonderful idea. Especially for you. And it will take less time doing it that way." He looked at Gabrielle. "Could you stand to be awake two more hours with this young gentleman in the dashing hat? Ending with Breakfast in the Great Hall?"

Gabrielle smiled in delight. "I would be honored to help you, Professor, in your hour of need."

Five people grabbed the portkey to reappear in the main hall of Hogwarts Castle just as the Great Hall was opening for breakfast. In the Grand Hall of Beauxbatons, Camilla sighed.

"It must be wonderful to be young and in love."

"It is," Jean Paul said, as her took her chin in his hand and kissed her.

* * *

"I am lost," Gabrielle admitted. "And why are we in a classroom."

Malcolm smiled. "This used to be my classroom."

Gabrielle laughed. "My fiancé, the Professor."

"I was an excellent teacher. All my students loved me."

"And not only them," Gabrielle told him. She felt with her other hand the ring on her finger. "You made me very happy today. To know you will be there for me."

Taking his cue, Malcolm took her into his arms.

* * *

"What are they doing now," the one boy asked.

"They're still snogging," his friend replied.

"This will never work," the third boy said.

"Yes it will," said the sixth year with the weedy hair. He was from Slytherin but the others, all second years, didn't seem to mind because, "I promised Dewey I'd set this up. We've got to show his girlfriend how good Malcolm is at defense."

"But they're taking too long," the one boy complained.

"Maybe I should go and asked the Slytherins after all," Nott said half seriously. "It turns out I still have plenty of time."

"We'll do it," the third boy said, "We're just tired of waiting."

"A diversion," his friend suggested. He waved everyone behind the corner and knocked on the door. "Professor?"

Malcolm looked at the opening door while Gabrielle giggled. "What?"

"Professor McGonagall's around the corner. She wants to talk to you, privately. She didn't say what it was about."

Malcolm sighed. "I'll be right back." He followed the boy who ran to the end of the hall and disappeared to the right.

"I'll wait here," Gabrielle said, and closed the door as Malcolm left.

Nott, from his hiding spot on the left, signaled the boys that Malcolm was coming and that Gabrielle was watching. As Malcolm turned the corner, all three boys, their wands ready, each cast a different jinx. As Malcolm's arm went up, Nott used his wand to cast the Imperious Curse on him. There was a flash and Malcolm was standing there without his hat. He looked at the three boys while Nott quickly fled the other way.

"What the hell just happened?" He looked up at the walls around him in surprise. "Where the hell am I?"

Realizing that they had just goofed (that being the mildest word to use) the third boy held out his hand. "You'd better come with us." He took Malcolm's hand and led him as quickly and quietly as possible to Madam Pomfrey.


	21. Not Again

**Chapter 21: Not Again**

Dewey was tired but still decided to get up for lunch. He did not regret the extra gift of being free from taking Friday's classes. It gave him a chance to make up for being awake all night. He stumbled up to the Great Hall, one of the last to arrive, sat down, reached for a sandwich and saw Professor Snape standing before him.

"Sir?"

"Did we have fun last night?"

Dewey smiled. "I caught the snitch. We won."

"You should have changed your clothes. What is that red smear on your blue robes?"

He angled his head to try and see. "That must have been Phillippa. She says lipstick makes her look older. At least that's what I think she said. I don't speak French."

"An understandable difficulty." Snape smiled. "And while we are speaking of difficulties, your brother is in the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey wants to talk to you about him. By all means, eat something first."

"What happened, Sir?"

"Someone pulled a prank on him. And did not get the results he expected."

"Is Malcolm OK?"

Severus Snape actually grinned. "I think you will find it amusing. I know I did."

Dewey dropped the sandwich back on the plate. What he had been told had unnerved him. What could possibly have happened? Then Dewey picked up the sandwich again and began to eat. If Snape thought it was amusing then it couldn't be that serious.

After the second sandwich, and a second glass of pumpkin juice, the young Slytherin made his way to the infirmary to find out what had happened. When he was told, his first reaction was, "You must be joking."

* * *

Malcolm sat up in bed looking curiously at everything around him, as though nothing was familiar. He saw the blond boy with the crew cut walking up to him.

"Nice robes."

"Thanks, Malcolm."

"Huh, oh yeah, your welcome." Malcolm stared at his brother. "Let me guess. Is your name . . . Dewey?"

"Yes, it is. That's very good, Malcolm. You do know you ARE Malcolm."

"Yeah, they told me. I mean, yes, I know."

"And do you know who I am."

"Yeah, I just guessed it. Dewey." A pause. "Oh, wait. I understand. You're my brother."

Dewey smiled. "Right again."

"Are you really my brother?"

"Same mother. Same father. Yes, Malcolm. I'm really your brother. And so is Reese. And so is Francis. Do you remember them?"

"Of course I do. Do you think I'm an idiot or something?"

Dewey smiled.

Malcolm snarled. "You really are a jerk."

Dewey smiled again. "Now, that's the Malcolm I know."

Malcolm frowned. "I'm really supposed to act like that?"

Dewey turned around to look at Madam Pomfrey. "Do I have to answer that honestly?"

"Can I get out of here?" Malcolm asked. "You said I was completely healthy."

Madam Pomfrey motioned for him to stay in the bed. "We want you to meet a couple more students first. It would not be a good idea to let you walk around with anyone knowing what happened. It's not a good time."

"OK. Then let me meet them."

"Meet whom," Draco Malfoy asked as he walked into the room.

"Mister Malfoy," Madam Pomfrey said quickly.

"I am aware of what happened, Madam Pomfrey. I only need to ask Malcolm a quick question."

As Madam Pomfrey pondered how Draco would already know, the boy walked quickly to Malcolm's side and whispered.

"Cousin, I need to know, with two possible confluxes concentrating on the matrix of the spell, how do I control alternating the conditions from only one source of one of the confluxes."

"Cousin?" Malcolm asked. "I don't know. Use crazy glue?"

Draco stared at Malcolm and backed away. "I apologize, Madam Pomfrey. I was misinformed. What exactly has happened to Malcolm?"

"Mister Creevey will be here shortly. I'll explain it to both of you at the same time."

"Madam Pomfrey," Dewey asked. "Do you mind if I go back to my house and change?"

"Go ahead, Dewey. You should have time."

"Thanks. Bye Malcolm."

"Yeah, bye. Hey, Dewey. I think you cut yourself or something. There's blood on your robe there."

"It's not blood. It's lipstick." Dewey grinned.

"How old are you?"

* * *

"Hello . . . Malcolm . . . Do . . . You . . . Know . . . Who . . . I . . . Am?"

"I'm tempted to say Stevie."

"I'm Colin Creevey."

"Then why are you talking like that? It makes you sound stupid?"

"I thought you couldn't understand very well."

"Look, I'm not too sure about what's going on, but I'm not stupid. This is all just really confusing. And it's kinda cool too, when you think about it. I heard about the Quidditch game tomorrow. I WANT to be there."

"But they told me . . . "

"I know what they told you. They keep telling me. I'm Malcolm. I'm a wizard. I'm in Gryffindor. And act as normal as possible so nobody knows that anything is wrong with me. What did I leave out?"

Colin smirked. "Don't act as normal as possible or they'll think something IS wrong with you."

"That's really funny. Who writes your material? Look, Nurse. It's Madam Pomfrey, right? Why don't we do a test run. I'll go down to dinner. I'll eat. And I'll come back here claiming I don't feel well."

Madam Pomfrey frowned. "We'll let the Assistant Headmistress decide."

"I'll decide, thank you, Madam Pomfrey."

"Professor Dumbledore."

"I received Minerva's owl and returned as quickly as I could. Is this the boy in question? Or course it is. Who else would have such problems. Good Afternoon, Malcolm. Are you well rested after last night?"

"Last Night?" Malcolm looked confused.

"Last Night. You went to a big party. Everyone is going to ask you about it. What will you tell them?"

"I was sick and couldn't go?"

"No, Malcolm. You went. Many people saw you dress in your finest clothes. Not a few of them saw you leave. What you tell them is that you and Gabrielle broke up."

"Who's Gabrielle?"

"A girl you were very fond of. But if you tell everyone that the two of you broke up, they will understand why you don't want to talk."

Malcolm nodded. "Hey, that is a cool story. I went to this really great party just to have my girl friend dump me . . . or did I dump here."

"You're heartbroken. She dumped you."

"Okay, so anybody asks, she dumped me so get out of my face."

Dumbledore smiled. "That should do fine. And should you do something unmalcolmish, the other students will understand. Colin, your good friend and housemate, and your brother Dewey, will help you find your way around the school." He waved his hand and a change of clothes appeared. "You are free to go."

"That's great." Malcolm looked up. "Excuse me, Sir. They told me you're, like, the greatest wizard around? Do you know how to, you know, solve this problem?"

Dumbledore nodded. "I do, indeed. It is simplicity itself. All of this is the result of a spell. All you need to do is use your wand to cancel the spell. Then the problem is solved."

Malcolm smiled. "Then why don't we just do that? Where's my wand?"

Dumbledore smiled sadly. "My dear boy, you have just touched on the crux of the problem. It seems that you have no wand."

Malcolm's smile faded as he said one word. "Oh."

* * *

"Careful, that's Ginny Weasley." Dewey whispered.

"Nice girl. Does she hate me or something?"

"No, she loves you."

"Great."

"Just like a brother. She has six of them. She knows what she's talking about."

"Bummer."

Ginny smiled as she saw Malcolm and excused herself from Dean to run over and hug him. "What happened? Tell me everything."

"We broke up," Malcolm said with a nervous smile.

"But?" Ginny stepped back, stunned. "I'm sorry, Malcolm." Suddenly uncomfortable, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "We'll talk later."

Malcolm watched as Ginny walked back to Dean. She whispered to him, then they both looked back and gave him a polite wave. Malcolm waved back and they walked away.

"Don't sound too happy next time," Colin suggested. "That took Ginny off guard."

"I'll try crying next time," Malcolm offered. "I was trying for nervous irony, and personally, I think it worked."

Dewey shrugged his shoulders. "I don't think it matters. Everyone knows you ended up in the infirmary when you came back. You probably could laugh while you said it."

"We're here," Colin said as they approached the Great Hall. "I'll check inside." He opened the door. "It's empty."

"It's not dinner, yet?"

"Not for another three hours," Dewey explained. "But you're supposed to be familiar with the Great Hall."

"Fine," Malcolm said as he walked through the door that Colin held open for him. "I'll look around and . . ."

Dewey and Colin nodded at each other. Malcolm was displaying the same reaction everyone else did when they saw the Hall for the first time.

* * *

"And you managed to get in?" Hector Filch asked.

"Yeah," Reese answered.

"How?"

"Once we got onto the school grounds, we walked up to the main doors, opened 'em, and went in. It's not as easy as using the fireplace but Malcolm already told me they stopped that."

"And where is Anthony."

"I think he forgot how to get out. I think he's trapped over there."

As Hector Filch fumed, Professor Binns seemed confused.

"You there, the quiet boy," the professor said as he pointed to Anthony. "You like to hide yourself. Are you paying attention?"

Anthony sat up and smiled. "Oh, yes, Professor Binns."

"And what year did the first goblin revolt begin?"

"1492?"

"You're one of the Perkins boys. I can tell. Your brother has the same attitude. For the next class, try reading the book before you come."

"Yes, Sir," Anthony answered.

* * *

"Mornin' Frank."

Francis eyed his house elf with suspicion. "What did you do now?"

"We were just . . . Well, let's talk private." Pecos Tim turned around and waved to the half dozen kids who were following him. "Y'all wait here while them varmints mount up the horses for us."

Tim followed Francis into the ranch house and his demeanor suddenly changed.

"Master, Timmy is so sorry. Timmy did not mean to do what he did."

"Timmy, just tell me what happened. There are six kids out there and you started out with eight. Where are the other two?"

"Timmy was doing rope tricks in the parlor."

Francis fumed. "Yes he was."

"And Timmy asked for two volunteers."

"And?" Francis knew he wasn't going to like this.

"And Timmy had a fun idea. Master said Timmy should try and think of things that he could do and that children would like . . ."

"And tell me about them first," Francis concluded. "What happened to them?"

"Timmy lassoed them and used his magic to swing them around." Timmy was smiling in the vain hope that Francis might be happy about what he heard next. "And Timmy flooed the fireplace . . ."

Francis moaned as he understood. "And where are they?"

"Timmy does not know? Timmy did not pay attention when he let them pick their . . . places they wanted to go."

"And which two were they?"

"The Ambrose boy, and the Perez girl."

Francis groaned. "The Ambrose kid is the nephew of the British Minister of Magic."

"Former," Timmy added helpfully, then cringed at Francis's look. His help wasn't helping.

"And you do know that the Perez girl is the GRANDDAUGHTER of the Spanish Minister."

"Should Timmy punish himself?"

"NO. Timmy should make sure Six children have a wonderful time WITHOUT ANY USE OF MAGIC."

Timmy ran out the door and immediately stopped. Pecos Tim sauntered to the lead horse to lead the remaining children on a ride along the trail.

* * *

"Otto," Francis said cheerfully. "I've got a question for you. Just something I was curious about. Say somebody uses the fireplace to go somewhere, and you wanted to know where they went, how would you do that."

"Oh, dat is easy. You follow dem."

"How?"

"Francis, you know so little about some things. Just throw in der powder und step in. If dis happened a vhile back, if der is a new fire or somevone else used der fireplace, den you can do nothing."

"Oh, thanks. I was curious." Francis turned away then turned back to Otto as though he just remembered something. "I need to use the fireplace to go see my mom. I'll be back within the hour. Is it being used?"

Otto shook his head. "Not since you went der dis morning." He looked up and smiled. "Dis is your chance to try vhat I told you."

"But I used the fireplace to come back. Won't that affect it?"

"No. Go ahead. Try it. You'll see."

"Thanks. I will."

Francis happily went to the fireplace and threw in some floo powder. He stepped in without saying anything and was whisked away. He stepped out of the fireplace to see something unexpected.

"It's about time you showed up. I'm not running a nursery you know."

"It's not my fault, Mom. I came as soon as I found out what happened. The kids were playing and they got too close to the fireplace. Timmy magicked some floo powder so they wouldn't get hurt, then waited two hours to tell me. He thought I wouldn't yell as much if he waited until after lunch but I spotted him."

"You should just get rid of him," Lois exclaimed.

"I can't. I own him. We tried freeing him but he always cries when we do that. And he likes what he's doing. And Otto likes him. Business is up, for the off season. A lot of European families like the idea of a couple of weeks together in the middle of nowhere."

Lois laughed derisively. "I bet they prefer being together. Do their folks know yet?"

"Timmy took the rest of the kids horseback riding. That gives me a half hour before anyone notices."

"Good. They're in the backyard with Nob."

"Shouldn't Nob be in school?"

"Yeah. But they're having medieval folk dancing and Nob didn't tell me he needed a costume. So he stayed home sick." Lois smirked. "I know he planned it, but he'd probably ditch school if I gave him Malcolm's old costume. That's what Malcolm did."

Francis walked out into the yard from the kitchen door. Nob looked up, as did the two nine-year-olds.

"Great. We can play two on two. Rosita, you get Francis. Nigel, ready for some real play."

"Come on, Muchacho," Rosita called out, "Let's kick some butt."

Francis nodded. Rosita could speak English real good. "Okay, but just a short game. Twenty one?"

* * *

Dennis looked at Dewey from across the table. "I'm curious. Why are you at our table?"

"Malcolm had a bad shock. I 'm trying to help him. In case he tries to do something stupid."

Malcolm sat at his table with Dewey and Colin on either side of him. He smiled politely at everyone but said little, until he saw Ginny walking by with Dean.

"Um, Ginny."

"Hi, Malcolm. I am sorry about what happened."

"Me, too. But life goes on, if you know what I mean."

"You're not upset?"

"There are other girls out there. And some of them, I've never thought about. And maybe some of them never thought about me." Malcolm ignored Colin's stares and Dewey's whispering. "For example, would you like to join me for dinner. Move over Colin."

Ginny smiled sympathetically. "I'm with Dean."

"Ditch him," Malcolm suggested. "It's just that . . . I never realized how beautiful you are."

Behind him, Ron was choking on his pumpkin juice. Ginny simply patted Malcolm's cheek.

"Malcolm, I know it's not really you talking. You know how I think of you." She bent down and gave him a peck on the cheek. "But this is how I think of Dean."

Malcolm's face flushed as she and Dean kissed. Meanwhile, Ron, having cleared his throat, began choking on a second mouthful of pumpkin juice.

"She really doesn't care about me," Malcolm said as he shook his head.

"As a friend," Colin said consolingly, with a hint of brusqueness.

Dennis looked at Dewey from across the table. "I'm curious. WHY are you at our table?"

"I have no idea." Dewey got up and went back to the Slytherin table.

"Try not to show off," Colin suggested.

"Fine. I'll try to fit in." He saw Ron looking at him and waved. Ron mouthed "sod off," and Malcolm put his hand down. "Maybe I should just leave."

Malcolm turned around just as Harry was passing by.

"You look familiar. Wait, there's something about you that's different."

Harry stopped and looked down. "Not you, too. But why should I expect you to be the exception."

"Exception? For what?"

Harry expressed mock surprise. "Haven't you been reading those stories about me?"

"Yeah, I've read some. You should read some of the things they wrote about me. You point out your lies, I'll point out mine."

Harry gave an honest smile. "You would be familiar with that part."

"Yeah. Although they write about you more than they write about me. The reporters have to make more stuff up." Malcolm felt the need to say something serious. "I've read about you, and I like to think I've gotten to know you. I like you because of your attitude. You're always a professional. Regardless of what you do. And for all your fame you don't forget about the people around you. I bet nobody writes about that."

Harry clasped Malcolm's shoulder. "Thanks. Those were words I needed to hear."

Malcolm smiled, then snapped his fingers. "I know what's different about you. You look thinner. Is everything OK?"

Harry's smile was filled with appreciation. The words and concerns from this unexpected corner were a welcome gift. "Everything's fine. Better than I expected." His eyes caught Ron's. "Except the Team's Keeper has no confidence in himself. Any idea's on that."

"Ron. All I know is that he hates me. If I had to say anything nice to him, I'd have to lie."

"Lie?" Harry grinned from ear to ear. "THAT is an excellent idea."

The next day, Malcolm and Colin sat together in the stands waiting for the game to begin. With them were a suspicious Dennis Creevey, and the muggle boy, Anthony, who had still not managed to find his way back to Glen Levitt Academy. (Behind them by two rows were Hector Filch and his girlfriend, Enid. They would help Anthony after the match.)

"This is great," Malcolm told Colin as the two teams flew out into the pitch. His face was filled with anticipation. "Wait till I tell Justin about this."

Dennis frowned. Malcolm was acting strange, but why would he want to talk to Justin Finch-Fetchley. He would ask Malcolm after the match was over.

* * *

"Anthony is still here," Professor Flitwick noted. "I didn't say anything when he appeared in my class yesterday, as you asked."

Professor McGonagall nodded. "Albus suggested he stay for the match. I know he explained the boy's unusual status. And we are still one short for Gryffindor."

This time, Flitwick nodded. "He said our newest student should be arriving soon. And I can't help but notice that Anthony is sitting with Malcolm. Is Malcolm still acting strangely?"

"He is?"

"Then I will expect a most unusual game?"


	22. Been There, Done That

A/N: Let me thank everyone first for reading and for reviewing. Mandraco mentioned being verbose. Which brings to mind the question: Why is abbreviated such a long word?

I wanted to make note that I said I was going to have some fun with this story. I also mentioned that I deliberately ripped off a plot device from an EERIE, INDIANA (pop. 16661) episode. Everyone should understand what I meant within the next 150 words.

A side note to Phoenix Skyborne: This also explains why Malcolm has been acting so funny.

**Chapter 22: Been There, Done That**

"Professor?"

Malcolm looked at the opening door while Gabrielle giggled. "What?"

"Professor McGonagall's around the corner. She wants to talk to you, privately. She didn't say what it was about."

Malcolm sighed. "I'll be right back." He followed the boy who ran to the end of the hall and disappeared to the right.

"I'll wait here," Gabrielle said, and closed the door as Malcolm left.

Nott, from his hiding spot on the left, signaled the boys that Malcolm was coming and that Gabrielle was watching. As Malcolm turned the corner, all three boys, their wands ready, each casting a different jinx. As Malcolm's arm went up, Nott used his wand to cast the Imperious Curse on him. There was a flash and Malcolm was standing there. He looked at the three boys. Then the pain hit him and he let out a short scream. "AHHH."

"CUT"

The director was out of his chair in an instant. "Get the doctor up here. NOW. And find out what that flash was." He and others ran up to the young Gryffindor. "Frankie, where does it hurt."

"W- What?" Malcolm asked in confusion."

"Head injury," someone suggested.

The director turned around. "Where's the damn doctor."

"Here." The doctor took Malcolm's chin in his hand. "Hold still, lad. Does it hurt anywhere?" He began running his hand over Malcolm's head to see if there were any bumps or abrasions. He knocked Malcolm's hat off causing someone to mutter, "Didn't notice that. We'd have to reshoot the scene anyway."

The doctor looked at Malcolm. "Where does it hurt?

"It was just a sharp pain. It's gone already."

"Frankie," the doctor asked. "Where was the pain?"

"The back of my head. Just above my neck. And . . . my name's Malcolm."

Everyone froze as Malcolm said that. The doctor muttered "Could have hurt his head.. Possibly a concussion. But I can't find any bumps or bruises." The director nodded. And Malcolm looked up. There were cameras in front of him. Like for movies. There was a directional microphone above him. And no ceiling to the hallway. Nor was there any opposite wall.

_I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, Toto._

"I feel a little dizzy," Malcolm asked. "Could I sit down."

"Sure," the doctor said.

Someone shouted. "Break, twenty minutes." as the Director and the doctor led Malcolm to a chair. Malcolm's guess was right. He was led to a chair with the name printed on it: Frankie Muniz.

_At least I know who I am. At least who I'm supposed to be._

Malcolm sat down and someone handed him a glass of water and two pills. "They're aspirin," the doctor assured him. Malcolm took the pills and drank the water greedily.

"Thanks. I think the water helped more than anything."

"That's good to hear, but I need to ask you a few questions."

"Shoot?"

"Your name is?"

"Frankie. Frankie Muniz. Although sometimes I call myself Malcolm when something weird happens."

'Then you remember what you said?"

"Yeah. For a moment there, all I could think of was staying in character. Could I ask a question."

"Go ahead."

"I'm not sure if I'm up to doing anything more today."

"Those are my orders." The doctor gave him a friendly smile.

The director smiled as well. "You have tomorrow off as well. We want you at your best, Frankie, and we still have to figure out what happened to you."

"And why half the fuses blew," one of the techs noted."

"Am I free then as well?" a familiar voice asked."

"These were supposed to be the scenes between the two of you," the director noted. "That's a yes, Daniel."

"Good. I'll put in a call about doing one of those interviews." Malcolm looked as Harry Potter shook the director's hand. "And I'll give Frankie a lift back to his hotel, if that will help."

"You have my permission," the doctor said, giving Malcolm a strong warning to call for help at once if he felt 'unusual' in anyway."

_Who should I call? I know. AUNTIE EM. AUNTIE EM._

"Can you walk?" Daniel asked.

"I'm a little wobbly, but I can make it."

"That's good," Daniel noted as they walked out of the sound stage and to a trailer. "I'll meet you back here after I change out of wardrobe."

Malcolm nodded. This was obviously his trailer, and he was expected to do the same.

_It does feel weird. These are obviously my clothes. They fit perfectly. But I've never seen them before. And I found my wallet and passport. You know what? I've got credit cards._

There was a knock on the door. Malcolm, assuming it was Daniel, opened it.

"You okay," Dewey asked. "Someone said there was an accident."

"Yeah, I'm fine. A little shook up, that's all. They're not sure what happened."

"My dad's talking to the doctor, so he knows what to tell your mom."

_This is interesting. We're not related. I have to assume that everyone in my family is an actor, too. And this Frankie's mom is (Home?). I'm not going to be able to hide what happened. But what happens if I tell the truth?_

"Well, I'm off the rest of the day, and tomorrow. Just to make sure. I think I scared them."

"Frankie, is it true that you told the doctor you were Malcolm?"

"Nooo. I told the director I was Malcolm. Get your facts straight."

"Hi, Erik," Daniel said as he returned. "Came to get the real story."

"Yeah. It's not everyday they close the set and start running. I heard one of the techs say all the lighting went haywire."

Malcolm remembered what he had heard. "One of them said half the fuses were blown."

"Ewww." Erik said as he shook himself. "I guess you're lucky it was just a bunch of lights. That would shake me up, too. Dad wants to know if you'll be fine in the trailer until we're done shooting?"

"I'm taking him home," Daniel said. "And Linwood told me that he's already talked to Frankie's mom."

"That's cool. Frankie, see you back at the hotel." Erik waved goodbye as he walked back to his sound stage. He was met by a man, Malcolm guessed it was his father, and they started talking. The man waved to Malcolm, and took Erik back inside.

_Dewey is Erik. Harry is Daniel. And Linwood? Probably the director's name. But it sounds like someone I should know._

Malcolm followed Daniel from the trailers across to the parking lot, nervous about making any mistakes.

"Lead on, MacDuff," Malcolm said cheerfully.

"That's Radcliffe," Daniel said with amusement. "You never get names correctly."

"It was a joke."

"I know," Daniel said in a terrible fake New Yorker accent. "It's by dat guy. Da writer. Bill wassisname."

"Tut, tut, dear boy," Malcolm countered with his best impersonation of Draco. "The names may be wrong but at least I remember them." he sniffed at the air. "Colonials. How droll."

"That was good."

"I practiced."

"I'll stick to upper class twit, then?" Daniel said, eyeing Malcolm carefully.

"Monty Python. I bought a dead parrot because of them. Is this your car? Nice? I like convertibles."

Daniel nodded and told him to get in. He failed to remind Frankie that he had given him a ride in his car only the day before. And he had tried the twit remark on him the first day on the set. Frankie seemed to be acting normal but things weren't adding up. He would call the studio later. He would see Frankie home first.

"Hey," A voice called out. "Dan, You're off?"

"Rupert. An accident on the set. We're off till Sunday."

"Then you're heading out tomorrow?"

"Wouldn't miss it. What's up with you? I thought you only had pickups?"

"I guess it's your accident. They called the rain schedule. Ron and Hermione meet Reese and Dewey."

The shouting match done. Dan put the car in drive and headed off the lot. As they pulled out onto the connector, he decided to try a hunch. "It must be fun having a show with brothers."

_Okay. This was a movie set. And I must do a TV show. Think. Got it. This is some kind of special. It's probably for TV but we're on a movie lot because that's where his sets are._

"It's a lot of fun. But this is a real treat. A movie studio is a lot different than what we're used to."

Daniel smiled as he nodded his head. Accurate in detail, but again a strange remark from somebody who had made three movies already. Or was it four.

"My character doesn't have any brothers, or any family for that matter. They're all dead, except for a godfather."

"But he . . ." Malcolm stopped in his tracks. He thought he had understood. This was another universe. One where they were actors portraying the people they were in their own world. But that wasn't quite true. They were not portraying exactly the same people.

"But he?" Daniel asked. There was a hint of suspicion in his voice.

_How many goofs have I made already. I bet this isn't the first time I've been in this car. Let's test this out._

"I was about to say, 'but he died.' But that would be wrong."

"That was in the fifth book. But we're only on the fourth movie. I guess it could go either way. Anyway, I was going to ask, about your show. Your brother, the one who plays Reese . . . what's his name again?"

_Dang. He does suspect._

"Reese? He's . . . That's funny. I don't remember. It's like my brain is sleeping." Malcolm put a tremble into his voice. "Harry, I mean, Dan. Did I say anything else that was weird? Like about the car?"

Daniel's voice held both worry and relief. "You forgot I gave you a ride yesterday. And, um, Frankie. The first day we met, I also made the remark about the upper class twit, and I had to explain it to you."

"That one, I was goofing on you. My brothers and me had a good laugh about it afterwards . . . I mean . . . Sorry."

"Don't worry. I'll call the doctor when we get back. Maybe take you in for a checkup."

"Thanks."

Daniel grabbed a CD. "Let's have some music. You told me you liked these guys." He put in a CD, and relaxed when Malcolm started singing along with the lyrics. The American boy was only shook up. There was nothing to worry about.

_I don't know who these guys are but this CD is really cool. Le Sorcerers Mal did this song twice last night. Opening the first set, and as an encore._

* * *

"Parent Alert," Dan said helpfully.

"Hi, Mom," Malcolm said to the stranger walking toward him.

"I knew I should have come today," the woman said. "Frankie, what happened."

"I don't know. It left me dazed. And I seem to be confused about a few things, It's clearing up slowly. And I'm feeling tired."

The last line was the truth. As far as Malcolm could tell, at this point he had been up for almost thirty hours straight.

"Thanks for helping him out," Mrs. Muniz told Daniel.

"My pleasure. Frankie was right about being confused, but he seems to know what he's doing wrong. I was going to call the doctor."

"No head injuries."

"Doctor says he's fine."

Mrs. Muniz nodded thoughtfully. "We'll put you to bed, Francisco. You know the way."

_Yeah, I have my room key. And calling me Francisco. That's parent talk for do it or else._

"Okay."

"I'll be in to check on you. I want to talk to Daniel, first."

Malcolm walked to his room, which was a suite with a kitchen area. He took a quick look in the refrigerator then examined both bedrooms. He found which one was his and searched the room thoroughly, finding out very little except for his taste in music. He did find pajamas and dressed quickly for bed. The last thing he did was stick his wand beneath his pillow. Whatever else that was going on in his life, he was exhausted. He was asleep by the time his 'mother' came in to check on him. And he slept through until early morning.

* * *

Malcolm knew it was early, but at least he was no longer tired. He could finally think straight and listed everything he knew. It wasn't much. He had no idea who he was except that he was an actor and he played Malcolm in a TV show. His guess was that his family were also actors and had no actual relationship. One good note: He was no longer related to Reese.

He was an actor? That meant that he was rich. He decided he could get used to that. And since he was an actor, that meant he was no longer a wizard. Malcolm stopped. But he still had his wand?

_I've got it. This isn't an alternate reality. My life hasn't suddenly changed. This is an Alternate WORLD. You know, the philosophical implications alone are staggering._

Malcolm reached for his wand. If he was here, that meant that this kid, Frankie, was in his world. But what was he to do. He held up his wand. He needed to test something, but it needed to be a small test. He concentrated, not saying a word. A pinpoint of light appeared on the tip. He could still perform magic.

Malcolm's mind was racing. Did this world have magic? Was it the same type that he used? Or was magic only illusion in this world? Just as Malcolm's life was in this world. There was no doubt about what he had to do, only how to do it. Malcolm would find a way back. He had to. Even if, by some fluke, Gabrielle also existed in this world.

Malcolm was smart. He was very smart. And he knew he needed help. But whom. And how. That would wait for later. For now, he would take a morning walk. He would find out where he was, in England, and make his plans from there.

* * *

Malcolm was sitting on a bench outside the hotel, a handful of magazines beside him. He was leafing through them for all sorts of informational tidbits.

_I like this one. TV TEEN. They have a picture of me without my shirt and all of my stats. I like the special notes. He likes rock, jazz and blondes. And they got my birthday wrong._

It only took a couple of the magazine to give him the basic information. He now knew all about his show. He was the star but there were other actors, and their names. He also read up on Daniel, who was even more popular. He was in the middle of making his fourth Harry Potter movie. Malcolm noted that the sixth book had also come out.

Malcolm also found out about the special. It was part of a charity deal. Advertisers bid for slots. The money would be divided amongst all the actors' charities. He noted with interest that Daniel's charity was called Demelza House. That was a curious name, because Demelza Robins was on the Quidditch team. Malcolm marked it down as coincidence.

Most important, Malcolm found out about the internet. And since Frankie was rich, and he was Frankie, logic dictated he should have a computer.

_It's time to go back to my room and check all my drawers. I bet I have a laptop._

A car pulled up just as Malcolm was getting up. "Frankie. You're up early," Daniel called. "What's with all the magazines?"

"Just catching up on the junk they write about me." Malcolm climbed in. "What brings you here?"

"I promised your mother I'd take you down to London General for some tests. I was there when whatever happened, happened. And I'm going into London, anyway. I've got an interview. I won't bore you with the details." He looked at his watch. "I have about an hour before we have to leave."

"I'll let my . . . mom know. We can take off anytime," Malcolm offered.

_I've noticed something about Daniel. He's not the same as Harry. I mean, besides the scar and having parents and being an actor instead of a wizard. He's a little taller than Harry. And I guess he weighs more. But he looks older too. I don't think we're on the same timeline. I think our worlds simply meshed at that one point._

"Frankie," Erik called from the entrance to the hotel. "You're up early. I thought you were off."

Erik's dad was there as well, and Frankie's mom. "I couldn't sleep any more. I thought I'd take a walk. Sorry, mom. I guess I should have told you."

"Yes. You should have." She looked at the bench. "And why those magazines? That's not like you."

_She's right. It's not like me. I'm making mistakes and I can only act confused for so long. And I need help anyway. I'm going to do it._

"Mrs. Muniz, Dan, Erik, Mister . . . I don't know what your name is . . . there's something I have to tell all of you."

Frankie's mom reacted first. "Mrs. Muniz? And you've known the Sullivans for years. What's the meaning of this, Frankie?"

"I'm sorry but I'm not this Frankie kid. My name isn't Francisco Muniz. It's Malcolm . . ."

"It's okay," Mrs. Muniz told him as she stepped toward him.

_Did you hear that tone? I'd better just forget about this plan._

"I apologize for forgetting a few things. Whatever happened made me seem a bit barmy. I'll be fine."

Daniel grabbed his arm. "Frankie. It's not just forgetting things. You're acting differently. And I don't mean as an actor."

_Dang. Now they all think I really am nuts._

"Dan, honestly, there's nothing really wrong with me. I'm fine. You're taking me to the doctor anyway. He'll find me in perfect health."

Daniel looked clearly upset. "How can I make my point?" He smiled. "I know. Malcolm, you go to school. What year are you in?"

"Fourth. Why?"

Malcolm's face went white.

_He called me Malcolm. And I fell for it. Now I have to do this, anyway._

"You see, Frankie," Daniel explained, "or should I call you Malcolm. You've identified with your character. And you told me you were a fourth year. In the States."

_I completely missed that._

"You need to talk to someone about this," Daniel continued. "This is serious. I'll mention this to the doctors when we get there."

"You're right," Malcolm said clearly. "But you're wrong about me. I don't think I'm a TV character named Malcolm. My name IS Malcolm. I'm trying to pretend I'm this actor, Francisco Muniz, the one all of you call Frankie. But there's so much that I don't know about him. And his life is too different from mine for me to guess correctly."

"Then we'll both talk to the doctors," Mrs. Muniz assured him. "They WILL know how to help."

Malcolm smiled. "I'm not Frankie. I'm Malcolm. And I AM a genius. I already know what to do. Because in my world, I'm a wizard. Harry Potter and I are in the same house. And that flash on the sound stage was a burst of magic as I changed places with Frankie."

No one was smiling anymore. "Maybe we should get going."

"Not yet. I'm going to prove it to all of you."

"Prove?"

"Magic."

"Let him," Erik suggested. "This should be fun."

Malcolm raised his arms and began flapping his wings. He flew up, circled a little, then landed on the windshield of Daniel's car and perched there, listening for reactions.

_All I can hear is them gasping for air._

"That," Erik said, "was truly strange."

Malcolm pushed off the windshield and transformed. He was now standing next to the car. "Neat special effects, huh."

Daniel look scared. "Tha - That was real."

"I'm an animagus. And I deliver my own mail, too. It's a real hoot."

_It worked. How could anyone be frightened by someone who just told a mediocre joke and followed it with a bad pun._

Frankie's mom asked in a shaky voice. "Is this a different reality or something?"

"I'm thinking parallel world. With a lot of differences."

"And you're really . . ." Asked Mister Sullivan.

"Malcolm. And Dewey and Reese are my brothers. And Francis, but he works on this ranch."

"He was fired. Then quit."

Malcolm nodded. "It sounds like Francis. But if that's from the TV show it hasn't happened yet. I was surprised to find out I'm not a wizard on my show?"

"No, you're just very strange." Erik was smiling.

"Am I that popular?"

Daniel shrugged his shoulder's. "Enough for us to do this special together. I think you're doing it more for the publicity, not that charity is a bad reason."

_Figures he has top billing. Even at school it's always Harry, Harry, Harry. I get Snape telling me "Oh Goody. You're back," and he gets everyone calling him "The Chosen One."_

Daniel looked at Malcolm, then at the others. "What do we do now?"

Mrs. Muniz took charge. "We go back to my apartment and discuss this. And we keep this between the five of us."

"We can afford to be late today, I think," Erik's dad told him as they walked back into the hotel.

No one spoke as they rode up in the elevator. The door opened to their floor.

"Frankie? What the hell was that? I was on the balcony an I saw you mrfghmr."

"Shut up, Reese," Malcolm said as he forced his hand over his brother's mouth. "And c'mon. You're number six."

"Quiet, Justin," Mrs. Muniz admonished. "Did anyone else see?"

"No, but . . ."

She opened the door. "Everyone in. Then we talk."

Justin nodded and followed everyone in. As soon as the door closed, "What the hell was that, Frankie?"

"It was me. And I'm not Frankie. That's what this is all about."

Erik grabbed Justin's hand. "He's the real Malcolm. And the real Malcolm goes to school with the real Harry Potter."

Malcolm nodded. "You figured that out."

"You showed up on his set. And you told us all that downstairs. Are you really a wizard?"

"Fourth year, Gryffindor."

"Cool."

Malcolm smiled. "If you think that's so cool, Dewey, then why are you in Slytherin?"

Erik's eyes lit up. "I'm a wizard, too?"

"And me," Justin asked.

Malcolm shook his head. "You're only a squib. But you're the head chef at the school next door and you're dating Millicent Bulstrode."

"You're making this up."

Malcolm jumped onto the back of the chair and perched there. He flew off the chair and landed with his feet back on the floor. "Do you still think I'm making this up."

"Malcolm." It was Mrs. Muniz. The worry was still in her voice. "If you're here, then where is Frankie?"

"Probably in the Great Hall having breakfast."

"Is it possible to get him back."

"I haven't figured that out yet. But I don't think he'll want to come back too quickly. There's a Quidditch match today. We're playing Slytherin."

It was Justin who spoke. "Frankie is SO lucky."


	23. What Was And Will Be

A/N: Just a quick note. Erik's name is now spelled properly.

**Chapter 23: What Was and Will Be**

"It will be a few minutes, Mrs. Muniz," the nurse said. "The doctor's finishing with his last patient."

"We can wait," She said and turned around to look for Malcolm. He was around the corner, talking to a young girl in a wheelchair.

"That's cool," Malcolm was saying. "My friend, Stevie, he doesn't have power steering. He has to turn his own wheels."

"You're silly," the girl said but she was smiling.

"He does. His arms are really strong because of that."

"I'm not strong enough," the girl whispered.

"You don't need to be. You only need to be strong enough. In here." Malcolm poked her in the chest and she let out a giggle.

"It's so hard."

Malcolm hid his thoughts behind his smile. Even if he had all of Madam Pomfrey's powers he couldn't do anything to help this girl. It had been explained his first year, when he asked about Stevie. Was he born that way.

_But maybe I can do something._

"I can help, but . . ." he deliberately paused. "Do you believe in magic?"

The girl frowned. "Magic isn't real."

Malcolm gave her an angry look. "Haven't you ever heard of Harry Potter?"

"You're not Harry Potter."

"Of course not. He's two years older than I am. And in his sixth year. I'm only a fourth year."

The girl's face showed amusement. "You're a wizard?"

"In training. But I can do this." He pulled out his wand. "What's your favorite color?"

"Blue."

"Then blue it is." The wand's tip shown with a blue light.."

"That's a nice trick."

Malcolm gave her a frown. "You have to believe if the magic is going to work." He put his hand over the wand and wiped the tip. The blue light was gone. Malcolm put his wand away. "Do you believe in magic?" He opened his hand. The blue light was still there. He opened the girl's hand, and rolled the ball of light into her hand.

"I believe," the girl whispered with sudden force.

"This magic is part of my strength," Malcolm whispered. "I'm giving it to you. It won't do the work for you, but if you try, it will help. What's hard to do will become easier every day."

Malcolm flicked the blue ball out of her hand and it hit the girl on the nose, lighting her entire face with a blue glow before it faded away. "Now, you will always have help when you need it."

"Thank you," the girl said. With a great effort, she sat up and reached out, grabbing his hand. She looked at her hand in amazement. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Malcolm said, as he let go of her hand and stepped away.

As he did, his 'mom' looked at him and smiled. Then they both looked as the girl's mother and a nurse walked up to her.

"Are you ready, Abeer," her mother said. "It's time for your physical therapy. And please try, this time. You need this."

"I will, Mum," the girl said. "I'll try real hard. I promise."

"Where did that come from," the mother asked the nurse with grateful surprise, as the girl was led away.

"That was a nice thing you did, Malcolm. Can you really give some of your strength to other people."

"It was just a ball of light. And the strength I gave her was to help her believe in herself."

"And how was it that no one else noticed?"

"It was just a small charm. To let everyone know there was nothing happening that they needed to look at."

"A small charm?"

"It didn't even affect the lights," Malcolm pointed out.

Mrs. Muniz ran her hand through his hair, a way she had probably done a thousand times. "I've seen Malcolm for years, but that's something I never expected to see him do. That was very out of character."

"I blame Gabrielle for that. That's the kind of things she loves me to do."

"You have a girlfriend."

"More than that. Once we graduate, it's wedding bells. We even made a formal announcement."

"She sounds wonderful." Malcolm was pulled into a hug. "If I can do anything to help, not just to get Frankie back, please let me know. And until then, try to think of me as your own mother."

_I can't help it. I've got to say this._

"In case anybody asks, I didn't do it."

"Do what?"

"Whatever they're asking about."

"Francisco Muniz," the nurse called, "This way please."

_I lied to her. It wasn't Gabrielle at all. That girl, she had that same look Stevie had when we first met. I had to do something. I mean, Stevie's my friend, right?_

* * *

"You're completely healthy. What a surprise."

"Thanks, Mom. Where are we going, now?"

"When we were talking this morning, you mentioned seeing if some of those places you know are actually there. With that in mind, where would you like to go first?"

It was Malcolm's idea to go to Charring Cross Road. They parked down the street from where the Leaky Cauldron was and Malcolm led the way. But the brick wall did not become the entrance to a pub. It remained a brick wall. If magic was in this world, it was in a different place.

"We could try King's Cross Station," Mrs. Muniz suggested.

"There won't be anything there."

"How can you be so sure."

"The accident. The more I think about it, the more I realize that the flash was a large release of magical energy. If your world had a Ministry for Magic, someone would have noticed, and did crowd control to make sure no one suspected magic was involved."

"Maybe they did. No one suspects."

"But no one came by. I was there long enough to notice if a wizard or witch made an appearance."

"Maybe the wizards in this world simply didn't think it was necessary. It was a movie studio."

Malcolm nodded. "Okay. King's Cross. Just to make sure."

* * *

"Bad timing," 'Mom' said as they walked between platforms nine and ten.

"Why's that?"

"See that group. It's the Harry Potter tour. And they're right in front of the secret entrance."

"No they're not."

"That's the one used in the movie."

Malcolm grinned. "The real entrance is the next one down."

Malcolm's grin faded as he noticed several members of the tour looking directly at him. One of the tourists raised her hand to interrupt the guide. "This boy claims you've got the wrong column."

The tour guide, as had the girl, recognized him, and smiled. "Is that true, Mister Muniz. This is not the secret entrance to Platform Nine and Three Quarters?"

Malcolm smiled. Lying was needed and that was his specialty. "It's Malcolm, Ma'am. And Harry explained it to me. "The Ministry for Magic wouldn't give permission to use the real entrance. That's why they had to use this column."

"And the real one is . . . where?"

"The next one down," Malcolm said generously, "but don't expect to get through. There's a spell to keep muggles out."

"That's not the real entrance," a teenaged boy Malcolm's age challenged.

"I'll test it," Malcolm offered. He walked over to the column and patted all four sides. Then he turned back to the crowd. "I forgot. I'm a muggle, too. Is anyone here a wizard?"

The joke went over well, and there was a delay while Malcolm found himself being asked for his autograph. It was an experience he was not used to.

_I hope me and Frankie have the same handwriting._

Mrs. Muniz led her 'son' from the train station in a bemused mood. "Be thankful you weren't the Radcliffe boy. We'd have to get the police to escort you from that place."

"He's that popular?"

"We're talking Harry Potter in King's Cross Station. If it weren't for this special we're filming, they probably wouldn't have recognized you."

"I should be thankful for small favors."

"And, did you find anything?"

"No. And it's no use looking for any of the other places."

"We'll have to look a different way."

Malcolm was confused. "Huh?"

"It's obvious. If wizards and witches exist in this world, they would make it a point not to let their secret places be mentioned in a book, especially a very popular series of book. Malcolm, is it true that you're a genius."

"Yeah."

"Then think about it. How would you find other wizards, if you knew they were around but you didn't know where they were. And remember, they're hiding but their not hiding from you."

Malcolm paused. "If." He looked up. He had stopped at the car. His 'mother' was opening the door for him.

"Reverse that," Malcolm said suddenly.

"And by that you mean?"

"Suppose you're a wizard. And another wizard suddenly appears, in a way you don't understand. What would you do? Follow him and find out what he's up to."

Malcolm's heart was racing. What if he was right? What if there was magic in this world. And if they were watching, where would they be?

"Mom," Malcolm said as he pulled out his wand. "I'm going to prove there aren't any wizards in this world. I'm going to shoot a fireball into the air." Malcolm raised his wand above his head. "FLAMUS . . ."

"Exotho Rabdi," another voice shouted and Malcolm's wand went flying from his hand. He turned around to see a man standing there in standard muggle clothing.

"Satin shoes?" Malcolm asked.

The man scowled as he realized Malcolm's trick. "Mrs. Muniz," he said politely as he approached them.

"See, Mom," Malcolm said. "No one is paying the slightest attention to us."

"Smart boy," The man said with mock politeness. "Madam, may I suggest we go for a ride. I think it is time for us to have a talk about you son."

"Where are we going?"

The man shrugged his shoulders. "Back to your hotel? Unless you had planned on making another stop. At her surprise he added, "I was telling the truth. We need to discuss certain things about your son."

* * *

"I suppose I should start," the man said as the car pulled out into traffic. "I am Miklos Abercrombie. I was assigned to investigate your son, Mrs. Muniz."

"The Ministry of Magic?"

"That would be the Ministry FOR Magic. And the answer is no. We are organized on a more international scale. And we were very curious as to how your son suddenly developed such potent abilities so quickly at an advanced age. Listening in on his conversation with you was highly educational."

He looked into the back seat at Malcolm. "And how did you manage such a feat as transporting to a different temporal plane?"

"I don't know."

"Then you can't repeat the spell?"

"No."

"Good. That means we don't have to worry about a deliberate invasion."

"Invasion?" Mrs. Muniz asked. "Isn't that an awfully paranoid word?"

"Malcolm's sudden appearance has made a great many people paranoid."

Mrs. Muniz smirked. "I can understand that."

"Thanks, Mom." Malcolm leaned forward. "Mister Abercrombie, do you happen to have a son named Euan? He'd be a second year."

Abernathy paused. "How did you know that?"

"He's in my house. Have you encountered many cases like mine before?"

"No. There are rumours. Old legends. But that's about all."

"Then you don't know how I can get home?"

Abercromie paused. "No, but I would not suggest trying. If you did something wrong . . ."

"I know. I got that lecture when they found out I could turn into an owl."

"You are referring to your abilities as a zoomagos. An interesting trick for someone your age. If I could ask a question of curiosity first. Do you attend Hogwarts?"

"I'm in the same house as Potter, if that's your next question."

"It was. I think I will have to reread those books. I will assume that those books parallel your world quite faithfully."

"I wouldn't know. I haven't read them. I do know that I'm not in them. Can I ask, do the books reflect your use of magic."

"To a degree. Magic wands appear to be common knowledge. Almost all wizards and magicians have them. The author came close on having all the spells based in an ancient language. Had she used Greek instead of Latin we may have had to intervene. And the potions classes seem quite inventive, especially in the last book with the Slughorn character."

_But . . . I read about it. That book came out months ago. And Slughorn just started this year. And . . . It's the sixth book. Harry's in his sixth year. I've got to get a copy of that book._

"I'll check out the book, Mister Abercrombie, and tell you how much is true. I've lived through most of it."

"I have to ask," Abercrombie said with a hint of excitement. "How does Potter truly feel about Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore's his mentor. He's like the father that Potter never had. And regardless of what may happen, Dumbledore will always have his loyalty."

Miklos Abercrombie smiled. "I can see that the same respect lies in you, Malcolm."

"He's the type of guy who deserves respect, even if no one is there to see it."

_Did I just say that._

"I think that's a good sign. He would have loved knowing you felt that way."

"Mister Abercrombie, I will find a way back."

"May I ask a question?" Mrs. Muniz asked. "Malcolm told me what my son will be doing right about this time, and I was curious. Do you have Quidditch?"

Miklos laughed. "The answer is yes and no. We never had the sport until it appeared in those books. However, there are a number of young people trying to develop the game. The brooms are easy enough, but controlling the bludgers and the snitch are proving to be a problem."

"You fly brooms?"

"We prefer carpets. Easier to sit on. The more professional of us simple levitate."

"And one more question. How did you end up with the name Miklos?"

Abercrombie laughed. "Because I'm Greek. I was named after my Grandfather, my mother's father. You should ask how I became Abercrombie. My father's father came to Greece at the age of 12 when HIS father was attached to the embassy. Ten years later, he married my grandmother. He never left." He looked up. "We're getting near to your hotel. Are there any more questions?"

"I have one," Malcolm said. "What are you going to do with Mrs. Muniz now that she knows about you. And what about the others that know about me?"

Miklos grinned. "Madam, do you promise not to tell anyone about this?"

"And be called a crazy lady. Sure, I promise." She put the car in park. "We're here."

Miklos turned back to Malcolm. "If there was a problem, it would have been dealt with. But this is a simple case of not telling anyone."

"You trust her?"

"Why not? You trust her. And if you will excuse me. Thank you for the ride and the conversation, but I must make my report. May I stop by, later tonight? I'd like to talk to the others."

Mrs. Muniz nodded. Miklos said thank you once more. Then he apparated.

* * *

_I can't believe I'm older than he is. He looks so much like Reese._

"So, Frankie, sorry, Malcolm. When's this guy coming by?"

"Pretty soon, Justin. That's all he said. I think he just wants to make sure none of us are jerks about this."

"About telling people? Who'd believe me anyway. Frankie's really this powerful wizard and Harry and Ron are his best friends. They'd lock me up as a loon before I finished that sentence, even though it's all true."

"But it's not true. Potter and me aren't friends. And Ron hates me because Draco is my cousin. It's Dewey he likes."

Justin stared. "Draco Malfoy is your cousin?"

"Wait a minute," Erik called out. "Ron Weasley hates you but he likes me? But you're in Gryffindor and you said I'm in Slytherin."

"Ron believes you were put in the wrong house. And the wrong family. And we're talking about Dewey, not you. You're actually decent to be around."

"Frankie," Mrs. Muniz called as she entered the suite.

"We're in here, Mom."

"Frankie?" Justin asked.

"I need to get used to it. My guess is she'll tell you to do it too."

"Makes sense," Justin admitted. "Okay, from now on you're Frankie."

"Wait until after we're done," Mrs, Muniz said as she walked into the den with Miklos Abercrombie.

"Is that him?" Erik's excitement was self-evident.

"A real wizard," Malcolm assured him.

"This is so cool," Justin admitted. "I just wish I knew somebody I could tell who would believe me."

Malcolm was handed a package. Miklos smiled as Malcolm took it. "A gift. You said you were interested."

"Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince?"

"I left the first five books in the foyer. I didn't know if you'd want to read this one first or start from the beginning."

_I already know the past._

"I'll start with this one. Most of the details are still fresh. And if anything's wrong or different, it should be more obvious in the later books."

"Good point," Miklos acknowledged. "And as for the rest of you," he looked at Justin and Erik. "We'll wait for the other two to come up."

_Yeah, Erik's dad used himself as the excuse to have Dan come by. I think he was in the neighborhood when his car broke down._

Malcolm opened the book and began reading while Miklos made small talk. He turned the pages quickly, pausing when he reached the chapter where Narcissa Malfoy met with Severus Snape. He quickly recovered his surprise and kept reading. He paused again after reading about Diagon Alley.

"You read pretty fast," Justin admonished. "It's been what? Fifteen minutes since you opened the book."

"I took speed reading as a Krelboyne. I've been reading like this for years. I was reading about Fred and George."

"The joke shop. Is it real?"

"It's great. I stopped in there just before we went to the station. I got all sorts of fireworks. Me and Dewey sat them off on the train and there were these two sunbursters we shot off at the same time. They blew out every window in the car we were in. It was so cool."

"Did you get anything else there."

"Yeah, George gave me one of their hats. I was supposed to wear it whenever I went outside Hogwarts." Malcolm paused. "I remember . . . Gabrielle and I were interrupted. She liked my hat. I was wearing it when I went out into the hall and . . . The doctor knocked it off my head when he was examining me. I forgot all about it."

"We have it," Miklos answered. "One of our men picked it up."

"There were wizards there?"

"Two. One of them was working as an English lighting technician. The other one was an American props manager. He's the one that picked up your hat."

"But?" Malcolm couldn't understand. "You couldn't have been expecting me? Why were they there?"

"To keep an eye on things. To make sure no one shows magic as being too real. We monitor all movie productions that fall under Science Fiction or Fantasy."

"You do?"

"And the wizard who is the lighting technician. He says the pay is good, and he gets to meet people, too. His last film was a remake of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy."

"Then, I really was a surprise?"

"You were a big surprise, Malcolm. Your being here challenges so many principles that we've come to accept in both the canny world and the magos world. Why, the philosophical implications alone are staggering."

"Canny?" Justin asked.

"Originally a variant of the Greek word for common, Kanois. The variant became more popular around the beginning of the Industrial Revolution. Most mages think the variant is more appropriate." He smiles at Malcolm. "You muggles have done the most canny things."

Grinning, Malcolm asked, "Mister Abercrombie, do you need me for this discussion? I'm really curious about this book. What I've read so far, I know what I've been doing. But this book is all about Harry, and I've already come across a few things that I didn't know."

_Such as describing to me perfectly exactly what happened between Dumbledore and Potter. And the description being written down who knows how long before it ever happened._

There was a knock. Mrs. Muniz commented, "they're here", and went to answer the door.

"We'll call you if we need you," Miklos offered. "I'm mostly going to admonish everyone not to talk about this, and to make sure everyone understands."

Daniel smirked as he walked up. "You mean let us satisfy our curiosity."

"Exactly. A secret is better kept if you understand exactly what it is you're keeping secret. The best way to insure someone's silence is to make them a co-conspirator."

As Malcolm left, Erik asked a curious question. One that Malcolm would have wished he had heard.

"Mister Miklos. Malcolm told me he was in his fourth year."

"He told me that too. And I believe he mentioned that you, as Dewey, are in your second year."

"But he said that Harry Potter was two years ahead of him." Erik had everyone's attention at this point. "That would mean that Harry would be a sixth year student. Like in the book."

Justin had the pleasure of voicing what Erik had left unsaid. "Malcolm is reading about the future. Or he will be shortly. Erik, he said he stopped at the joke shop before he went to King's Cross."

"He could have meant last year," Mrs. Muniz suggested. "Miklos, is the Quidditch game mentioned in the book? Malcolm said they played today."

"They did. And they won." His next words held a sense of foreboding. "We have just given him a book of prophecy. What do we do?"

"Help him go back," Erik suggested. "He can change the bad things. Dumbledore won't die."

"But?" Miklos Abercrombie was in a quandary. "We don't know what will happen. Assume that the books foretell true events. We know the next and final book will tell of Voldemort's defeat. But what if Malcolm changes the wrong things?"

Justin smiled. "We warn him. That lady already started writing book seven. You can use your magic to find out what she's written so far. Then we find a way to send Malcolm back with all that information. Dumbledore's supposed to be very smart. He'll know what to do."

Miklos smiled. "Justin, that is an excellent plan. But you just reminded me of the most important fact of the matter. Malcolm has no way of getting back. He doesn't remember how he came here. He can't recast the spell to send himself home." He looked up at Mrs. Muniz. "I must apologize to you. And to your husband. There may be no way we can ever bring Frankie back. I'm sorry."

"I understand. And I'm the one who'll have to explain it to my husband. And Malcolm will have to learn to adjust. Will we be sending him to a school like Hogwarts."

"No. In our world, he is Frankie Muniz. He has to stay here and be an actor. I should ask. Can you handle that?"

"If I can't I'll have Jane come over and yell at him a few times."


	24. There And Back Again

A/N: It's Thanksgiving here (It's the official twenty four hour markdown to the pre Christmas diet. The PCD is not an effort to lose weight. It's successful if you gain less than five pounds between the two holidays) AND we had snow last night (It didn't stick).

A note to Azari Kaiya Son, most of your answers are in this chapter. Thanks for the review. And to Mandraco: Frankie does appear again in this chapter, but I don't think it's what you meant.

To everyone else. Thank you for reading and reviewing.

**Chapter 24: There and Back Again**

Daniel insisted on picking Malcolm up in the morning and driving him to the set. They had barely started out when Daniel asked his question.

"I wanted to know. What's he like. I only play him on film. But you know him. You've been at the same school. You've talked to him."

"He's . . ." Malcolm shrugged his shoulders. "He's Harry Potter. You've read the books. You know as much about him as I do."

"I know facts. At least, now, I know they're facts. You know, it is a bit hard for me. I just found out yesterday that the fantasy film I'm making is actually a documentary. I wanted to know something about his habits. What does he eat for breakfast?"

Malcolm laughed. "Wow. You're asking about the greatest wizard in literature and you want to know what he eats for breakfast."

"It's a start." Daniel let his irritation show.

"Fine. What does the great Harry Potter eat for breakfast." Malcolm's smile faded and a serious look took it's place. "Harry Potter? What is he like? He's sixteen. He's shorter than you but he had a recent growth spurt. He'll probably catch up. And his hair's distinctly black. Not merely dark like yours. At a glance you look the same. Harry's also thinner. I guess it's because he never had much to eat when he was younger. People like that tend to either remain thin or become really fat."

Malcolm looked over at Daniel. "He has a distinct way of eating, you know. He'll pick up a piece of steak or a hamburger or even a french fry, and he'll hold it as though he's trying to protect it, to make sure no harm comes to it until he can put it in his mouth. There's always an intensity about him when he's eating. Even when he's not paying attention to what he's doing. That's what Harry is like."

"Intense without realizing it?"

"Yeah. When he plays Quidditch, he puts everything into it. He doesn't decide to. He just does. He's not afraid to take risks, and if he's sure of something then nothing can stop him. Even common sense." Malcolm's voice became low. "That's why his godfather died. Harry screwed up."

"It must be hard living with that."

"It is. But Harry has to live with it, and so he does. He'll try to learn from his mistake and pay back his debt by doing better in the future. He knows that's all he can do."

"He sounds like a great guy."

"Or a jerk. It depends on which side of him you look at. He's either strong-willed or pig-headed. He's either confident in himself, or filled to the brim with his own self worth."

Daniel looked at Malcolm curiously. "And he's your friend?"

"No. He doesn't care for me. And his friend, Ron, can't stand me. My best friend at school is Draco Malfoy."

"But . . . Malfoy's in Slytherin?"

"Yeah. And so is Dewey."

A figure appeared on the road ahead, and Daniel pulled over.

"Mister Abercrombie, do you need a ride."

"I needed to talk to Malcolm before you get to the studio."

Malcolm excused himself and went with Miklos as they walked away from the car.

"Did you discover anything?' Malcolm asked hopefully.

"Yes, we did. Malcolm, we don't know what you're thinking but we figured out that you will find a way home."

"There's no way you can figure out something like that."

"There is. It's called psychology. We know that you are a genius. We know that you have perfect recall. We know that you are more advanced in magic than you should be. We also know that you have almost no motivation to use your skills for the forces of good. Or the forces of evil for that matter."

"You're saying I'm lazy."

"No. Apathetic. To put it a nicer way. You're a teenager, and you only think about yourself. Which, for a teenager, is completely normal."

"Are you done insulting me."

"For now. The point is, we know you are going to figure out a way back in the next few days. At least we're 83 sure. And if we're correct, if you can't figure it out by the end of the week, you never will."

"So, you're saying I'll probably be home by the end of the week."

"Exactly, and we also know why you wanted to read that book."

_Something's not right._

Miklos showed Malcolm his wand. "Allas mnim. Malcolm, you did not read the book. But you plan to read it. You plan on taking it with you. But when you discover how to go home, you will be too wrapped up in the need to leave, that you will not remember to bring the book until after you are gone."

"So, you're saying I'll be home by the end of the week."

"It's your mind, Malcolm. You're constantly thinking. When I talked to you last night about all those things you did at Hogwarts, it was to try to develop a pattern of the way you think."

"And you think I can do it?"

"I know you can, Malcolm. And I know you will figure it out faster if you have confidence in yourself."

_Something's not right._

"Mister Abercrombie, why do you want me to go home all of a sudden."

Miklos put his hand on Malcolm's shoulder. "After we talked, I had a conversation with your mother, about what happened in the hospital. It was too crowded for me to follow you in. She told me about Gabrielle." He removed his hand and used it to punch Malcolm lightly in the shoulder. "All I ask is you consider Greece for a honeymoon. Ask Euan, when you get back. He'll tell you some great places to go."

"That's cool. I'm always telling him where to go."

"GO. BEGONE. GET TO WORK. NO MORE STUPID JOKES."

As they drove off, Malcolm looked back and waved. It seemed like a stupid conversation. But Malcolm knew Miklos was right. Without thinking, Malcolm took the book under his jacket and tossed it in the back seat.

* * *

"Ten minutes," someone shouted into the makeup trailer.

"They're on their way."

"So let me get this straight," Malcolm asked Justin. "This is the final scene but we still have five more days of filming."

"Yeah. They have to tear this set down tonight to build the potions class. That's three different scenes with that set. Do you know your lines?"

"Yeah, I read the script. I just hope I don't screw it up."

"Worst come to worst, We'll change the show to Reese in the Middle and I'll do all your lines."

"Very funny. Who writes your material."

"That guy there," Justin said, pointing to the man sitting next to the director.

A man waved them over to the set. "Are both of you ready? Frankie, you clear on what to do?"

"Can you run it past me? The last time I did this I took two days off."

"That's your mark. You walk into the scene as a group of kids wave their wands at you and you wave the wand yell some gibberish."

"Protozoa."

"Daniel walks up behind you . . ."

"Got it. I brag about how I did magic and then Snape walks up with his wand and says no I didn't."

"That's right. You give Daniel the wand. Alan tells you to leave in his Snapiest voice and you run down the hall stopping there. Justin and Erik suddenly appear. Alan yells. All three of you exit off the sound stage."

"That's not very funny," Malcolm said.

The man shrugged his shoulder's that's the script. That's what you're paid to do. If you have a problem, talk to Linwood."

"Okay,"

"Ma . . ., uh, Frankie," Justin said, "What are you doing?"

"I thought of a funnier ending. You were complaining they took out your fart joke because they needed the ten seconds. This could get that scene back in."

Justin smiled. "Okay, Malcolm, you're the genius. Let's talk to Linwood." He turned. "HEY, BOOMER."

Everyone went quiet.

Malcolm smiled. The idea of being filmed so that millions of people could watch him was not a frightening thought. The idea of dozen's of people stopping work to watch him was extremely frightening.

"What do I call him," Malcolm whispered to Justin. "Linwood or Boomer."

Justin whispered back, "I'd try, Sir."

Malcolm nodded. "SIR."

"Good choice for a first word, Frankie. What do you want?"

"I think the ending sucks, and I have a better idea."

"And the idea is?"

Malcolm told him.

"Personally, I like it," Alan said. "But I'd add something to it."

"Twenty minutes," someone called out. "Kid's get to school. Everyone else, coffee and donuts."

* * *

Malcolm steps around the corner to see a group of younger wizards. They shout spells at him and he shouts back, "Protozoa." There is a flash and the junior wizards fall backward. As they pick themselves up and flee, Malcolm turns to Harry Potter who has just come up.

"Did you see that? I DID IT. I CAST A SPELL."

"That was amazing," Harry adds in disbelief.

"That was pathetic," Severus Snape says as he steps up behind the two. "You didn't cast any spell at all. All you did was recite a biology lesson. Now give Potter back his wand."

Malcolm gives Harry back his wand with an apology.

"Mister Potter, you will see me for detention tomorrow, but for now escort this poor excuse for a muggle from the school. His parents are waiting for him at the entrance."

"Yes, Sir." Harry leads Malcolm away.

"Not so fast," Snape says in a quieter, more menacing voice. The camera pans down to show Dewey holding a wand. "I'll take that back, if you don't mind."

Dewey hands over the wand. "My birthday's next week. I'll be Eleven."

Snape sneers. "We'll owl you your letter."

"CUT" the director yelled. "Okay, let's do the dialogue again for closeups."

* * *

"Thanks," Justin complained. "Not only doesn't the fart joke get in, I lose my screen time, and Erik and Rickman get a bigger scene."

"It is funnier that the original ending," Malcolm tried to point out. "And it did save three seconds. I talked Linwood into putting back the scene with the trick stair."

"Where Reese falls on his face? Malcolm, you are a genius."

"I'll say," Erik chimed in as he finally stepped off the set. "That spell that sent you here. I hope it never wears off."

"What."

"I said I agreed that you're a genius."

"That's it." Malcolm looked around. "I can do it. All I have to do is cancel the spell. My wand. I left it in my trailer."

"Where's Frankie going?" Mrs. Muniz asked as she walked up to the boys.

"To get his wand," Erik said. "He's going home."

"Frankie's coming back?" Mrs. Muniz ran out to the trailer. Eric and Justin followed him. Daniel, talking with Alan Rickman, noticed Erik's Dad leaving to follow them. He excused himself and ran out to the trailer as well.

Malcolm opened the door and stepped out of the trailer to face a small group. "I can't do it."

"The spell doesn't work?" Justin asked.

"No. It works. But I have a range problem. I wasn't holding my wand when I cast the spell. And I can't cancel the spell unless I'm holding the wand."

"And that means?"

Eric's Dad answered. "It means that someone else has to cancel the spell."

"With my wand," added Malcolm.

"But who can do that?"

"I can," Alan Rickman said. He walked up and grabbed Malcolm's wand stepped back and pointed it. "Finite Incantatum." He handed the wand back. "There. The spell's been cancelled. Now, if you're done playing. I want to know why all of you ran out. We'll start with you, Mister Muniz."

"Why are you here asking me?"

"Because there was another electrical accident and I volunteered to find why you ran out while everyone else is trying to figure out what happened inside."

"Malcolm?" Mrs. Muniz asked.

Malcolm looked sheepish. "Sorry. I lost my temper and destroyed the couch. I put it back together though. Wait. I've had a thought. Dewey, Erik, wave the wand."

"We tried that last night. Remember."

"Did we? I forgot. I'm so flustered. I'm so close to getting home."

"What's going on," Alan Rickman asked Daniel Radcliffe.

"That's Malcolm. Not the character that Frankie plays. Well, he is the character, but this is the real Malcolm."

"The real Malcolm has a wand?"

"He's a wizard and he goes to Hogwarts."

"Do you realize how stupid that sounds? Next you'll be telling me you're the real Harry Potter."

"That's ridiculous. He's shorter than I am, anyway. And his hair's black."

Alan looked around him. "You're serious? And what is this spell he wants to cancel?"

"The spell that brought him here."

"And you need an actual wizard?"

Daniel nodded. "And now you know everything."

"Fine. I'll find one."

_Everyone just got real quiet. Just like when Justin yelled "Hey, Boomer."_

"How?" Daniel asked.

"Simple logic. We're in a situation where we have to perform magic by getting rid of it. For that, we need to find an unknown wizard, since we obviously don't know any known wizards. I suggest we test those boys they brought over for that group shot of the first years. One of them is guaranteed to be a wizard and not know it."

"How can you know that?"

"Because we're in an absurd situation and that is the most absurd conclusion I can think of. Thank you very much. If anyone needs me I'll be in my trailer getting drunk."

"Mister Rickman," Malcolm asked. "Where are these first years."

"Good God, you're serious about this. Fine. They're waiting on the next sound stage. Follow me." He turned around. "Not everybody. Just him." He pointed at Malcolm. "And you," he said waving at Daniel when he insisted on coming. Alan stared at Frankie's mother and shrugged his shoulders. "Let's get going them."

After ten paces he turned to Daniel. "They're all following anyway. Aren't they?"

Daniel looked back. "They are."

"Let's get this over with."

He marched the small crowd over to the next sound stage, walked in, told everyone to wait, then walked over to a group of seven boys, all eleven and twelve."

"God," he whispered to himself. "I would have to be in costume." He glared at the boys. "All right. I need to know which one of you is the most pathetic of the lot."

"Me." "NO, ME." "NO, I AM, SIR." "IT'S ME." 'PICK ME."

Alan eyed the crowd of boys now jumping and waving their hands, eager to be picked.

"You, the one who didn't bother. Come with me." He turned back to the other boys, all completely stunned. "I told you I wanted the most pathetic. Did you think I was joking?"

He walked the boy out of the sound stage. "Pathetic boy. This is Harry Potter. You know him already. This is Malcolm. You're lucky you don't know him. Malcolm is actually a wizard trapped in our world by a cruel spell. And all of us want him to go home. Very badly."

"An' what about me?" the boy asked.

"You are secretly a powerful wizard and you are the only one here with the ability to remove the spell."

"Right. An' you called me pathetic."

"Here's all you have to do." Alan walked over and grabbed Malcolm's wand. He walked back to the boy. "Point the wand at him and say, "Finite Incantatum."

The boy laughed nervously. "This is a wand? It feels funny."

Malcolm's eyes lit up in surprise. "You can feel it?"

Daniel looked at Malcolm in disbelief. "You mean it worked? He really is a wizard?"

"We can find out," Malcolm said, then turned to the boy. "Cast the spell."

The boy nodded with a smirk, "Finite Incantatum."

The wand sparked, but nothing else happened.

"What was that?" the boy asked. "I felt something."

"You didn't think about what you're doing." Malcolm explained. "That's why the spell fizzled out. You can't do magic unless you believe."

"That's good," Alan said, sarcastically, "And don't forget, boy, if you do this properly, you get to take potions lessons from me."

"Slughorn teaches potions now," Malcolm commented. "You teach the Dark Arts."

"Oh," Alan said snidely. "No wonder I didn't recognize you. You're from the book. Not the movie."

"That's right," Malcolm said. "I forgot about the book."

The boy, excitement in his eyes, shouted, "FINITE INCANTATUM."

"Nice special effects," Justin said as the flash faded and Malcolm stood there wearing Gryffindor robes.

Malcolm looked up and saw Mrs. Muniz. "MOM." And ran into her arms. "I'm back. I'm so glad to be back."

He looked up when he heard a popping noise. "Who's that?"

"He's a wizard, dear. We'll explain later."

"Excuse me," Alan Rickman dared to say. "Does anyone know what happened to that boy?"

* * *

"Oh Goody. You're back," Severus Snape said casually as Malcolm appeared in the middle of his classroom.

"Is class over?"

"It's Sunday. There is no class. I dragged you in here because you were in the hallway and about to make a verbal mistake. But then the real you came back. Who is that, and why is he staring at me."

"I don't know, Sir. I guess he came back with me because he was holding my wand." Malcolm slipped the wand out of the boy's hand and stuck it in his own belt.

"How pathetic. They'll probably make him a student as a reward."

"A student?" the boy asked suddenly. "Really."

"Yes. And from the looks of you, you'll end up someplace dismal, like Gryffindor."

The boy's eyes went wide. "Gryffindor? Do you really think so?"

"It's guaranteed."

* * *

Everyone was back at the hotel for a final review of the day. Miklos Abercrombie was there with another wizard. They were talking in their own language.

"What are they doing?" Frankie asked.

"They're talking." Erik answered.

"I can see that."

"They're talking in Greek."

"Yeah but what are they saying?"

Erik shrugged his shoulders. "It's Greek to me."

Frankie thought for a minute, then smiled. "Shut up, Dewey."

* * *

"Everything's back to normal," Mrs. Muniz told Mister Abercrombie as they walked outside the hotel. "Frankie has a hundred stories to tell about that school. It was an amazing adventure."

Miklos nodded. "And everyone is going to keep quiet about it. I didn't need to use any magic."

"About Malcolm. Did we do the right thing?"

"Not we. I. I'm the one who did it."

"Every adult agreed with you. Malcolm should not know his future."

"Because he doesn't know all of it. I'm sorry. Three days ago, this was all just a story. Characters in a book. But my universe is much bigger now. And I know that because of my actions, Severus Snape will murder Albus Dumbledore. I will always wonder if I really did the right thing."

Mrs. Muniz nodded her head slowly. "I think that every day, about every choice I make concerning my children. It's taken years, but I'm beginning to think I made some pretty good choices. You'll find out later how good your choice really was."

Miklos snorted. "When the next book comes out?"

"No. When Malcolm comes back. He figured out how to go home because you told him he could figure it out. How long do you think it will be before he figures out how to come back?"

"You're scaring me."

She laughed. "He has to let us know what happened to that boy. The one that nobody remembers ever existed."

"We knew the boy was an orphan, and we knew he had the ability. We had arranged for him to be there to give him a glimpse of what magic was like. The look of it, at least." Miklos shrugged. "Now he'll learn Latin instead of Greek. And maybe Malcolm will bring him along when he comes back."


	25. All Good Things

A/N: I have just read that there is now a means to respond directly to reviews and that such review responses as these are no longer allowed. This is something I will try to do later today to see if it will work.

Despite that, I would like to share one thing with all of you. A bit of light reading I came across. "Draco and The Terrible, Horrible, Very Bad Day" (503873) by Dangermouse. At under 1,000 words, it is a short but enjoyable read.

**Chapter 25: All Good Things**

Severus Snape sighed. One problem had become another. At least it was one he could get rid of.

"The two of you will follow me. The Assistant Headmistress will want to talk to you."

"Wow," the boy said with practiced sarcasm, "he's just as exciting in two worlds."

Snape sneered at the boy. "I can't do anything about you until you're a student. So I'll do this. Malcolm, Ten points for not wearing the school uniform."

"You're giving me points?" Malcolm asked snidely.

"On second thought, never mind. I won't do anything. Your punishment is coming. Follow me."

_Punishment? For what?_

* * *

"We've been expecting you," Minerva McGonagall told the boy. "This is for you."

The boy took the letter. His hands were shaking from excitement as he opened it. "It's all true? Every bit of it? And you're really letting me go to school here?"

Minerva smiled at the boy's enthusiasm. She remembered her conversations with the young American actor. In his world, this was all a made up story.

"Do you accept your invitation to go to Hogwarts?"

"Yes. Please." The boy looked in delight at his letter as he said, "It's all real." Then he looked up in alarm. "It is real? ALL of it?"

"I'm afraid so. Even the bad parts."

The boy swallowed. He had never read the books but he had seen the movies. Had he read the books, he would not have been nervous. He would have been frightened.

Minerva smiled sympathetically. "Do you still wish to attend?"

Mustering his courage, the boy nodded.

"Then we have one more thing to do." She picked up the Sorting Hat and put it on his head. And laughed as his eyes shown with merriment.

The hat caught the boy's mood and seemed to laugh as it shouted, "Gryffindor," even though only four people were there to hear.

"I'll have you know you're in my house."

"Then . . . you're Professor McGonagall. I saw where you changed into a cat in the first movie."

"And that is something we must talk to you about. I must ask you not to reveal your origins. As for your parents . . ."

"I have parents? You know where they are?"

Snape took over when McGonagall was taken by surprise. "We know nothing about you except your name. We made an assumption that you had parents in your old world, and we will try to find out if they are in our world as well."

The boy looked sad for the first time since his arrival. "I'm an orphan, Sir."

"Well, tell Professor McGonagall all you know about yourself, and we'll see what we can do."

"There's not much to tell. You already know my name and that I'm eleven. There isn't anything else. I don't even have a real place to live."

"Yes, you do," Malcolm said helpfully. "You've got Hogwarts."

McGonagall managed to smile. "And that will be enough for now. We'll have your supplies and books sent to the school. That part will be taken care of. And your robes as well. Under the circumstances, your wand will be a problem . . ."

"Here," Malcolm said as he pulled the wand out of his belt. "You can use this until you get one of your own."

The boy stared. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I had a problem a couple of years ago. Now I always carry a spare. That's the fourth wand I've bought."

"Thank you, Malcolm," Professor McGonagall said. She turned to the boy. "Would you like an escort to the Great Hall, or would you like to try your luck."

"I'll try my luck, if I may."

"Go out this door and turn left, make your first right, then take the next staircase down. Keep an eye out on where the staircase to the next level is and keep going down until you reach the ground floor. You are on the Seventh Floor right now."

"Sounds easy enough."

"Hey," Malcolm called before the boy left. "The staircase to the fifth floor, the third from the bottom is a trick stair."

"Thanks, again." And the boy was off on his first adventure.

"Severus, if I could speak to Malcolm alone?"

"Certainly. I'll follow the boy. I'm sure he'll forget about the trick step."

After Snape left, McGonagall sighed.

"This won't be the easy part. Malcolm, we hid that fact that you had disappeared by having your counterpart lie about who he really was. And he avoided answering any question about Hallowe'en night by telling everyone that you and Gabrielle had separated."

"And I have to explain how we got back together?"

"You did not get back together, Malcolm."

_This is stupid. It wasn't my fault I got trapped in another dimension. Now they want me to stop seeing Gabrielle? Is that my punishment?_

"Then we will."

"No, you won't. Gabrielle insisted on it."

"I'm not going to tell any lies like that just to hide what happened."

"Then tell everyone what happened. It won't change the situation. I talked with Gabrielle. After you had left. For reasons she will explain when she thinks it's time, she does not wish you to try to see her. She does not want you to contact her. She does not want you to write her. She does not want you to have anything more to do with her. Until she is ready to explain herself. And, regretfully, I must agree with her decision."

Malcolm wanted to call McGonagall a liar. But he could see the tears in her eyes. Somehow, some way, she was telling the truth.

_NO._

Malcolm transformed into an owl and flew out of the castle and into the air. McGonagall rushed to the open window and looked out. She sighed with relief when she saw him turn back and enter one of the classrooms. She wished him luck.

* * *

Malcolm transformed, standing on the very spot where he had last held Gabrielle.

_What happened? What could have possibly happened?_

He looked around. There was nothing. There was no clue. Except . . . he turned his head and saw the glint again. There was something on the floor. He bent down to pick it up.

_I dreamt this._

His finger picked up the ring. The ring he had given Gabrielle. If he doubted anything McGonagall had said, all doubts ended at this point. All he could do was wonder why. He sat at the desk he had sat at so often the previous school year and tried to reason it out. As he thought, he idly scuffed the floor with his trainer, closed a desk drawer that had been left partially open, counted all the window panes, and, lastly, watched as the sun slowly made it's descent. It was only until he was exhausted that he returned to the dorm and to his bed. By then, everyone else was asleep.

* * *

"MALCOLM."

"GO AWAY."

Colin seemed amused. "I'm only here because you've driven everyone else away. What is it this time."

Malcolm pulled the blanket off his head. "What do you care? Everything is fine and dandy with you."

Colin looked around. "Don't worry. You get home somehow."

Malcolm was inches away from Colin's face. "I am home, And I want you to go away."

"Things went bad where you were?"

"NO. Things were wonderful. There was no Gabrielle there to tell me to get lost."

"Well, you're just about up anyway. Why don't you get dressed and come down to breakfast. I'll wait for you in the common room." He watched Malcolm carefully. "You have to eat."

Malcolm surrendered. "I'll be down."

Colin left as Malcolm tried to get himself organized. He threw on some clothes but did not bother with his robe. He went to his trunk, where his spare wand was and pulled out a small box. He closed the trunk, leaving his wand inside.

The ring, sitting on the night table, was put in the box. Malcolm thought for a minute, then tossed the box onto the table. He would decide what to do later. He finished dressing and went out to live the first day of the rest of his life.

Tomorrow, he would go out and live the second day.

* * *

"It's been two weeks," Dewey complained. "Shouldn't we do something."

Draco snorted. "And what should we do? Your mother sent him a howler last week, telling him to snap out of it. It made him yawn."

"It was a fake yawn."

"It was still a yawn. If you want to do something try setting Malcolm up with another girl, at least someone he can talk to."

"That's a great idea. I know the perfect girl."

"Where's he off to," Avery asked Draco.

"If I am correct, he's going to ask that Mudblood Granger to make a pass at his brother."

Avery nodded. "That would be fun to watch. I'm curious. If Dewey's plan works and they get married, will you still be the best man at the wedding."

Draco glared at the second year. "You have just explained to me why you and Dewey are friends."

"Was that a Yes or a No?"

"Shut up, Avery."

* * *

"Hermione?"

Hermione Granger looked up from her breakfast. "Dewey? Did something happen to Malcolm."

"Not yet. That's why I wanted to talk to you. He's still pouting over You-Know-Who."

"You mean Gabrielle."

"SSSHHHH." Dewey said in an overly loud whisper. "Don't say that. It might sent Malcolm off on another crying jag if he hears that name."

Hermione was amused. "But if we call her, You-Know-Who, won't we run the risk of confusing her with someone else."

Dewey shrugged his shoulders. "Call him What's-His-Name. Nobody ever talks about him when he's around anyway."

"Fine. We'll do that. And what was the favour you wanted from me?"

"Could you do to him what Ron's doing to Lavender Brown right now."

"Do you mean call him kissy-poo and act like a complete jerk?"

"You could improvise," Dewey suggested. "He's coming. Bye."

Hermione didn't react as Dewey ducked under the table. But she did react to Ron looking over, smiling at her then kissing Lavender again. She stood up as Malcolm passed by, grabbed him, spun him around, and latched onto him with a bear hug while she kissed him as strongly as possible.

"There are other fish in the sea," she whispered to Malcolm."

"Uh, yeah, right." Malcolm sat down in her spot, dazed. Hermione forced him to move over. "How do you feel?"

Malcolm noticed Ron watching them suspiciously. "You're right. You kiss a lot better than Ginny any day. I'll tell Dean he can keep her."

"That was good," Hermione whispered. "What's Ron doing?"

"I think he's trying to swallow his tongue instead of letting Lavender do that for him."

"And how are you?"

"After what you just did? I think I'll live." He smirked. "Are you doing anything tonight?"

"Slugclub. Want to come?"

"I might get you banned."

"One can only hope."

Malcolm frowned. "Then why do you go?" He looked over at Ron. "Never mind. Sure, I'll come. How should I dress."

"School robes would be nice. You haven't worn them in two weeks."

"You mean that I should start going to classes again, too."

"It's called life, Malcolm. And it's going to go on, regardless of what you do."

"Thanks, Hermione."

"You should thank Dewey. It was his idea."

Dewey's voice came from under the table. "If you kick me again, I'm going to hex your leg."

* * *

Anthony was working in the cafeteria again. Reese had proven himself to be a genius around a kitchen. He could look at a recipe and know exactly what needed to be done, as well as think of improvements. And now Reese had another brilliant idea.

"Desserts are the biggest problem we have. They're too bland. Jello or pudding or cake. It's too dull."

"We have pies, also," Anthony contributed, "and we do put those dollops of cream on them."

Reese ignored the suggestion. "No. That's changing now. You are officially the pastry chef."

"But I'm supposed to finish washing the dishes."

"We have students for that."

"Yes. Me."

"I'll tell Hector to get some volunteers. Here, I'll show you how to do flaky crusts, first."

"First? But I have classes in fifteen minutes."

"Cut them."

"NO."

Reese looked surprised. "Don't you want to learn to do this?"

"No," Anthony said in a small voice."

"If you don't want to learn how to cook, why are you here?"

"I have no idea," Anthony answered, threw down his apron and walked out of the kitchen. He then walked back in. "There's a test today in chemistry and I forgot to study."

"I'll sign the excuse," Reese said and led Anthony over to the table.

"You can do that?" Anthony asked, and Reese nodded.

It turned out to be a lie, but Filch couldn't prove that Anthony knew that.

* * *

"I've got it." Reese grabbed Anthony as he came into the kitchen.

"It's three weeks until Christmas Holiday. Please tell me it's not contagious."

"It's an idea."

"I don't feel well. I need to go to the nurses office."

"It's about Filch."

Anthony paused. "You're not going to let go of me regardless of what I say. Are you?"

"And I need your help."

"And as they carry me off screaming, they will say, 'if only he had made a proper friend'." Anthony looked at Reese. "We're going to Hogwarts?"

Reese smiled. "That's what I like about you. We think alike."

* * *

"And why are we trudging all these miles through the dark," Anthony asked.

"Hector loves Enid."

"You've written that in every lavatory stall in the school. Including the girls' bathrooms. I think everyone knows that. And I think they would have figured it out even without you help."

"Yeah, but when you love someone you should get married."

"I can think of plenty of examples of people who shouldn't have married."

"I'm serious. And this is a simple plan. Remember Malcolm's conversation?"

"When he flew over to our school and cried for three hours while ranting about how all women were completely detestable, and the only hope any man had was a double lobotomy. That conversation?"

"Yeah, and he said that the girl gave him back the ring."

"Yeah, I remember. She cast it on the ground with a complete lack of regard for the emotions I felt and so on and so on." Anthony paused. "You're going to steal the bloody ring."

"I'll ask Malcolm first. If he wakes up. There's Dennis."

Dennis smiled. "I got your owl. Do you want me to help you get in?"

"No," Anthony said.

"Yes," Reese insisted and grabbed Anthony by the arm.

* * *

Reese snuck into Malcolm's dorm and slipped quietly to his bedside using only the moonlight to guide him. He reached over for the box sitting on the night table where it had been tossed so long ago.

"Reese, what are you doing here?" Malcolm asked sleepily from his bed.

"I need this," Reese said as he took the small box.

"Take it," Malcolm said angrily. He slumped back into the bed and mumbled into his pillow. "I don't need it anymore."

As he heard Reese close the door behind him, Malcolm was suddenly wide awake. He had dreamed this very moment. Just as he had dreamed about the ring. And about Luna. Something very strange was going on in his life.

* * *

"Who are you?" the boy asked when he saw Anthony standing in the hallway.

"Just visiting."

"We're all in bed, now. Except those of us who have to go to the loo."

"Sorry. I'll be gone shortly."

"Hi, Anthony," Euan said as he came down the stairs. He walked past him in the same direction as the first boy. They came back together a minute later. "Goodnight, Anthony. Are you staying? We have an extra bed?"

"The first year hasn't shown up yet?"

"That's me," The boy said. "I had a late start."

"But he's not a late starter," Anthony said as a joke. "Louis left for Beauxbatons. I saved your pajamas from last time, if you're interested."

"I am," Anthony said, eager at the thought of not having to walk several miles back to his own school. He had associated with Reese for too long and couldn't care less if he got into trouble. He would get a Reese-free day out of it.

As Anthony followed Euan into the second year dorm, Reese came down the stairs. They just missed each other. He walked into the common room.

"That was quick," Dennis said.

"Where's Anthony."

"He ran into Euan. I think he's going to spend the night."

Reese nodded. "I'm ready to go. He'll just have to find his own way back."

* * *

Albus Dumbledore sat down for breakfast and smiled. "I see our guest has returned."

McGonagall cast a wayward eye at the boy in question. "I presume we will send him back to his own school after breakfast?"

"Don't you think it's curious that the boy prefers being here than at Glen Levitt?"

"Considering the fact that he is forced into constant contact with Malcolm's brother, I would say no."

"But you miss the obvious my dear. He could have simply refused to walk all that distance between our two schools. Instead, he came and refused to go back. He may not know what is inside of him, but he does feel an affinity with this place."

McGonagall nodded. "If what I have heard about Reese is true, then Anthony can't use the excuse that the food is better here."

"Reese has found his niche in life. And a surprising one at that. Hector tells me that he can read a cookbook blindfolded but he still can't seem to read a textbook." He smiled as he saw Malcolm enter. "And there is our next great wonder. He has somehow performed the most marvelous piece of magic seen in decades, perhaps centuries, and he could not care less. The woman he loves is gone from his life."

"Albus, that boy he brought back. How is it that we knew his name."

"That I do not know. I only know that it was written down on the day that he was born, with a notation that he would arrive late."

Both were looking at the boy in question as Malcolm tapped him on the shoulder.

"Has the wand been working out for you."

"It's been excellent, thank you. And learning magic is wonderful. I have you to thank for that, too."

"I feel responsible for you. Do you have any plans for Christmas?"

The boy glanced across the table at Euan Abercrombie and Dennis Creevey. "Possibly."

Malcolm looked up. "Possibly."

"He doesn't have a home," Dennis pointed out. "I've been talking to my parents but they weren't really interested. On the other hand . . ." He looked at Euan.

"My father is willing to consider the idea. He insists on meeting the 'boy in question' over the holiday. Knowing my father that means he already agreed."

"Congratulations," Malcolm said and walked over to join Hermione who was eating with Ginny and Dean. As he walked away, he heard Euan ask the boy, "Do you like Greek food?"

"Good Morning," Malcolm said as he sat down. "I hear Slughorn's having another get-together."

"You are specifically not invited."

"Why?"

"As if you didn't know? Someone brings up the idea of an alternate reality, and you come out with all of us speaking Greek instead of Latin." Hermione's voice held anger and amusement. "Slughorn was furious at you after he told you your ideas were ridiculous."

"They worked."

Dean was curious. "Ginny never mentioned this. What did Malcolm do?"

"He started casting spells using Greek derivatives instead of the standard Latin."

"They worked," Malcolm pointed out.

"Malcolm." Hermione was flustered. "Of course they worked. You're skilled enough as a wizard you could have used Pig Latin and they would have worked. Slughorn barred you from any future meeting for casting the Jelly-legs curse on Blaise Zabini."

"That was only because Dewey wasn't there."

_That gets me to thinking. That bit about an Alternate Reality. Let's see. I was wearing that hat that George gave me. Those three kids each cast a different spell, and . . . I need to talk to some people._


	26. The Holidays Are Coming

**Chapter 26: The Holiday Are Coming**

Hermione came up behind Malcolm as he sat in the common room and gave him a hug.

"Merry Christmas. How are you feeling?"

"Depressed. I had all these great plans back in September, and now I have nothing to do."

"You still have three days until the holiday starts. You could come visit my house for something to do."

"Hermione, can I get your opinion about something."

"No, I will not be your girlfriend, but I'm more than happy to pamper my baby brother."

Malcolm laughed. "You're taking Ginny's place."

"She's busy with Dean, and you do need someone to watch over you. Now, what did you really want to ask me."

"I've been having these dreams. And they've been coming true. It's scaring me."

"And these dreams are?"

"I dreamt Luna Lovegood came up to me and told me my horoscope. And then she did."

"That IS scary."

"No. That's weird. That was the last dream I had and the first one to come true. I've had seven altogether. Three have already come true. Luna and my prophecy. Reese showing up and stealing the ring I got for . . . Gabrielle. And my finding the ring after she left it behind."

Hermione mused on what that meant.

"Each dream centered on a different person" Hermione pointed out. "Luna, Gabrielle and Reese. What are the other four?"

"They're the strangest. One of them I don't remember. In another one, Ron is being nice to me. In the third one McGonagall is telling me I've been expelled, and the fourth one . . . do you remember Dabney?"

"I don't think I've ever met him. He's one of the Krelboynes."

"Yeah. In that dream, he has a wand and he can do magic."

"Then Dabney is secretly a wizard."

"No. Dabney is publicly a dweeb. On the other hand, Johnny was giving him magic lessons as part of a scam on the government."

"Then you're saying that Dabney can learn magic?"

"No. He's a muggle. He couldn't cast a spell if his life depended on it. His magical ability is listed as a negative number."

Passing it off, Hermione asked about another dream. "What can you recall about the dream you don't remember? I mean to ask, do you remember any of the details at all?"

"All I remember about that dream is that I don't remember about it, but I will when the time comes."

Hermione stared at Malcolm. "Those are definitely scary dreams."

"And what do you think?"

"Someone is trying to tell you something. But I have no idea what."

_I felt a lot better before she said that._

"Why did Reese want the ring?"

"Who cares.

* * *

"This is it," Reese said. "We're doing it tonight."

Anthony looked up in disgust. "What are we doing?"

"I'm putting my big plan into action."

"You never told me what it was." Anthony paused. "If you want to keep it a secret, you don't have to tell me."

Reese laughed. "Okay, but you're part of it. I've got your uniform over there."

"My uniform?"

"You're the waiter." Reese was grinning so hard, Anthony started to panic.

"Why am I a waiter."

"You said you didn't want to know. You need to be dressed at exactly eight o'clock tonight. And we need to gut the teacher's lounge."

"Gut? As with a fish."

"No. As with furniture. Except for one table and two chairs."

Anthony held up his hands in exasperation. "WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO."

"Oh, I'm going to trick Filch into proposing to his girlfriend."

"I understand. You're going to set up the teachers' lounge as a private dining hall for two, cook them a gourmet meal which I will serve and then, somehow, get the Headmaster to propose to the Government Affairs teacher."

"Yeah. That's why I swiped Malcolm's ring after his girlfriend dumped him."

Anthony understood everything. And he suddenly understood how to accomplish all of this. All he had to do was to keep people from finding out that Reese was doing this because he thought marriage was a living hell.

"Well, if I'm going to be the waiter, I'd better be the one to get the "private dining room" set up." Anthony grinned wildly and high-fived Reese when the chef held his hand up. "The best part is: I'll have to miss all my classes for today."

Anthony took the uniform and left the kitchen area. He walked up to Regina, who was in charge of setting up the cafeteria.

"Missus Heart?"

"What did you do now, Anthony?"

"Reese and I are planning a private dinner, and I need some help."

"For whom."

Anthony used his best Lovey-Dovey voice. "Hector and Enid."

Regina Heart eyed the boy. "And how do you plan to do this?"

"Set up the teacher's lounge. Serve the dinner. And for dessert, she gets a fluffy pastry and he get a ring in a box held out for him to take, while she watches."

"And what does a scheming boy like you get out of it?"

"I have a history test today and I forgot to study."

Regina Heart laughed. "That's good enough for me. Those two have been eyeing each other for too long already. How do you plan on getting them to the lounge so late."

"I was going to ask you for an idea?"

Mrs. Heart paused, then smiled. "We'll make this a big scheme. Go tell Mister Percival, the caretaker, that there was a delay in the deliveries. The chef can feed the students on time, but can the teachers wait. And make sure he knows why you're telling him that."

Anthony did as he was instructed. Mister Percival laughed at the idea and began at once to inform all but one of the teachers of the plan.

* * *

"Ah, Headmaster," Percival said politely as he joined the teachers for lunch. "I've been telling the others about a problem with the deliveries for the cafeteria."

"Nothing serious I hope."

"For the students, no. But we are short of some of the basics. Now, I've talked with our suppliers and they are sending out the order but, because of mechanical problems on their part, the delivery will not be in time to prepare dinner for the teachers"

"This is preposterous."

"Tell him the rest, Percival," the history professor said with a laugh.

"The rest?" Hector Filch asked, noting the good humor of the teachers.

"It's Reese, Sir. The head chef. He wants to use the extra time to try a few new recipes. I told him I would ask you about rescheduling our dinners for eight, and perhaps using the teachers' lounge for a dining hall. That way we don't have to keep the kitchen staff late."

Hector Filch was curious. Especially after hearing about new recipes. Making Reese the school chef had been one of his strokes of brilliance (or blind luck). He still needed to make sure of all the details.

"If we have the dinner in the lounge, we'll need servers. And school finances . . ."

"Student Volunteers," the history professor offered before Percival could reply. I've got six form first thing this afternoon. I can round up enough boys to do the job."

Percival smiled. They had gone to college together. They were even roommates for a while. While everyone in Nineteenth Century History tried to pick esoteric subjects for their papers, Old Barnaby chose to do his paper on the history of naval press gangs during the Napoleonic Wars.

Filch laughed at the professor's offer and conceded. "If no one objects, we'll have a late dinner in the lounge."

"Headmaster," the English Professor asked, raising her hand out of habit. "If the chef is going to be cooking one of his special meals, perhaps we could make a party of it. This could be our Christmas party instead of tomorrow. We could even dress up."

"In costumes?" History asked.

"No, you Ninny," Geography answered, putting in his opinion. "Fancy Dress. I wouldn't presume for tuxedos and ballroom gowns, but I've no objection to putting on my best suit and tie."

"That does sound like a grand idea."

The other teachers were slightly surprised. Those words had come from the one female teacher no one had told the truth to. But they knew they had won. If it pleased Enid, Hector would go along with it.

* * *

"Anthony?"

Hector Filch, dressed to the nines, stared at his student. The boy's outfit shouted elegance. It also left no doubt as to what he was there for.

"I will be your server tonight, Sir. Excuse me, you have company."

Anthony's head turned to look down the hall as Enid approached.

"You look stunning, my dear," Hector said as he held his hand out to her. "Green does become you."

Enid blushed as she smoothed out an imaginary wrinkle on her gown. "This old thing. I rarely have a chance to wear it anymore."

"Shall I escort you in?" Hector asked as they hooked arms. He turned to Anthony. "We are ready to make our entrance."

Anthony opened the double doors to the teacher's lounge and led the way. The room was empty except for one lone table in the middle of the room. Candle stands had been placed around and away from the table to give the room light.

"It's beautiful," Enid said, "but . . ."

Anthony interrupted. "I was told to wish the two of you a Merry Christmas on behalf of the entire staff of the school. Please follow me. And if you would like anything to drink while waiting for the appetizers, we have a sufficient enough bar for making cocktails."

Amazed and surprised the two sat down, gave their drink orders and waited.

"This was skillfully done," Hector admitted. "I never suspected a thing."

"Even the music is wonderful. I love classical music when the lights are low."

Hector and Enid had a wonderful meal. Half the time they barely recognized what they were eating. Then the dessert came. Each received a strawberry mousse sculptured in the shape of a heart. Raspberry sauce was laid across the dessert in the shape of an arrow. Also, in front of Hector, was placed a small wooden box.

"Hector?" Enid asked. "What is that?"

"I don't know." Hector said. "Hopefully, it's not the bill."

He opened the box and saw the ring. There was a small note inside that he could read. It said 'it will fit her pinky'. Hector finally realized what was going on. Enid was looking at him in curiosity. He had to say something.

"Enid, dearest, do you remember just last month, when we visited the kitchens and you started kneading that dough at Reese's request."

Enid was puzzled. She kept looking at the box. Then at Hector. She thought she knew what was in the box. She hoped she knew what was in the box. But why were they talking about making bread. "I remember. Then Reese suddenly pulled it from me, saying I shouldn't do that. It was strange."

"Well, strange as it seems," Hector palmed the note and turned the box around, "we were only able to get the ring size of your smallest finger."

"Oh, Hector. It's beautiful."

Hector took the ring out of the box. Then he stood up so that he could kneel next to her.

"Enid, will you marry an old fool."

"No, but I'll marry you."

She sighed as he put the ring on her finger. She knew Hector loved her. It had barely been a year since they met, but she already had her doubts about him. He never seemed able to commit himself. But to have planned all this. He must have spent weeks planning this entire night. If possible, she loved him more than ever.

Hector, on the other hand, was no fool. He never told her that the night was a complete surprise to him as well.

* * *

Dewey confronted Malcolm as they left the Great Hall after dinner.

"Malcolm, we have to talk."

"No we don't Dewey. I'm completely over . . . that girl."

"What girl?"

"You know. Her. I . . . forget her name."

"Right. Anyway, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. Can we talk someplace quiet?"

"Yeah. I know a spot. Filch never bothers searching that area."

Dewey was amazed. "He doesn't? Why not?"

"There's nothing there. Just empty rooms with cold stone floors and maybe the odd bit of furniture."

"Oh. How often do you go there?"

"Just once. There's really nothing there."

* * *

"Timmy does not understand."

Francis tried to give the house elf a friendly smile. "We're decorating the Christmas Tree. It's supposed to be a group effort. That's what gives it the personal touch."

"But Timmy can do it for you. Without any effort."

"That's not the point. The point is that we take the time to decorate the tree. It's supposed to bring us closer together as a family."

Piama snorted. "Did that ever work with your family."

"Yeah, if you ignore Reese smashing any ornaments he didn't like. Or Dewey eating all the threaded popcorn, without removing the thread. Or Malcolm lecturing everyone on fire hazards. Or my Mom yelling all the time. How about your family?"

"My mother converted to Judaism every December 24."

Francis nodded. "That's cold."

The house elf interrupted.

"Timmy does not understand. Is he supposed to break things?"

Francis and Piama looked at each other and nodded. Francis turned back to Timmy.

"Just go ahead and decorate it your way."

Timmy smiled and snapped his fingers. Bulbs, tinsel and lights suddenly appeared on the tree. It looked magnificent.

"Not bad for a first try," Francis told him. "We'll let you do this every year."

Timmy beamed with happiness.

"You know, Francis. He took those bulbs out of the boxes without opening them. If he puts them back the same way, we could return them for credit."

"Good thinking. We could save up some money fast that way." He and Piama snuggled on the couch. "By the way, I bought a bottle of spiced rum to mix with the egg nog."

Piama smiled. "I forgot to buy the egg nog."

Francis frowned, then nodded. "That'll still work. I'll get the glasses."

Piama put her arms around Francis. "You don't have to. Timmy. Could you get two glasses, please. And fill them half way with rum and the other half with ice."

Happy to have something to do, Timmy took two glasses. He remembered this time to make sure they were empty. He snapped his fingers and spiced rum magically appeared in the two glasses, filling both of them halfway. An equal amount of rum disappeared from the bottle. Timmy snapped his fingers again and the top half of each glasses was filled with a solid, glass-shaped block of ice.

Timmy went back to the den and sat the drinks down on the coffee table, making coasters appear under them. Then he stepped back and smiled.

"Does master want anything else?" He paused. "Can Timmy do anything else for Mistress?"

Timmy's eyes grew sad as he noticed Francis's hand untwined itself from the passionate embrace and wave him away. That meant Timmy was not needed and should spend the next few hours anywhere else but in the apartment. He cheered up at the thought that he could visit the house elves in the ranch kitchen. One of them was his age and her nose came to a beautiful point.

* * *

"Draco is hiding something," Dewey insisted.

"Isn't that obvious," Malcolm told him. "You know what Reese did over the summer. Who knows what trouble Draco's in."

"He makes Crabbe and Goyle parade around as girls."

_That's a side of Draco I didn't want to know._

"Do they look cute?"

Dewey fumed. "I'm serious, Malcolm. He uses Polyjuice Potion to make them change. And it's not always the same two girls. It's any two girls, or even guys."

"You're not making sense. What does he do after he makes them change?"

"They go off somewhere and do something."

"There you go. Draco's working on some secret project and is using Crabbe and Goyle as lookout. He uses Polyjuice Potion so that no one will notice that Crabbe and Goyle are always in the same place."

"Are you sure?"

"It's either that or Draco's totally twisted. Take your pick."

Dewey nodded. "Thanks, Malcolm. I was worried about him. Do you think it's an evil secret project."

Malcolm thought briefly. "It could be. Considering his parents are big supporters of You-Know-Who-Who-Is-Not-Related-To-Us."

"Do you think he'll let us help?"

"We could ask, but when he gets involved in something, he always has to do it himself. He hates having to share credit with anyone. Except Stevie."

"Someone's coming."

"No problem. This room has a hidden cabinet."

"I thought you didn't come here much?"

"Only once. But I was here for quite a while. And you don't have to worry, there's a silence spell on it so you can hear what's going on and no one can hear you."

"That's really convenient. Did you do that?"

"Had to. Mrs. Norris was looking for me and Filch was with her. I had to know when they left."

"Hey, that's Snape," Dewey said as he listened to the voices. "And he's with Draco."

The two listened to the short conversation with few questions. One of them was: "What an Unbreakable Vow? Is that like when you agreed to be in that stupid contest last year?"

"Yeah, but that was more like the junior version. I would have lost all my magic or something like that. This is the go for broke version. You lose and you lose." Malcolm drew a hand across his throat.

Dewey nodded. Just then, Snape yelled at Draco that he was acting like a child. It was followed by footsteps storming out of the room.

"Was that Draco or Snape?" Dewey asked.

"Stupid boy," Snape was heard to mutter. "He'll get us all killed."

Malcolm smiled. "Do you want my best guess?"

"So, do we hang around until he decides to leave? After all, this is your private place. No one ever comes here. At least not the one time you were here. Except for Filch. And now we're trapped in here because of a stupid professor who also knows about this place." Dewey heaved. "Well? Say something."

_Nothing I say right now would be appropriate. So I'll try for polite._

"Merry Christmas Professor Snape. It's amazing . We were going into the broom closet in the hallway outside of, um, potions because we spilled something and we wanted a broom, and now we're here. It's like magic."

Snape gave Malcolm a look that said he was too tired to sneer as he stood there holding open the door to the cupboard. "Malcolm. Even Dewey wouldn't believe that malarkey."

"Yes, I would," Dewey offered.

"Shut up, Dewey. I assume the two of you heard everything."

Both boys nodded.

"And you do know that I'm trying to help Draco."

"Yeah," Dewey answered. "We were talking about Draco just before you arrived. Malcolm even warned me that Draco's a do-it-yourselfer."

"Really? I always thought of him as the type to try and get someone else to do it."

"Unless he can't," Malcolm explained. "If he has to do it, he wants to do it by himself. That way he can take the credit if he does good . . ."

Snape finished the sentence, "or blame it on the fact that nobody would help him. Thank you, Malcolm. And if by chance you can get through to him, I really do want to help."

"We're stuck here for Christmas," Malcolm assured the Professor. "We'll work on him once we get him alone."

Then Dewey asked, "Are you going back to Slughorn's party?"

"That's a great idea," Malcolm added.

"You can't come, Malcolm. After what you did to Graham Pritchard, Slughorn won't allow it."

"What did you do to Graham?" Dewey asked.

"Nothing. And besides, Pomfrey cured him in less than an hour." He turned back to Snape. "I thought it was because of what I did to Blaise Zabini?"

This time Snape asked. "What did you do to Zabini?"

"Nothing. And besides, Slughorn cancelled the spell almost immediately."

"Then I suppose there's no reason you can't come," Snape suggested. "And in my book, no reason is as good as any. Go back to your dorm, Malcolm, before I send Filch for you. Come along, Dewey. You're late as it is."

_Dewey was invited. Why?_

* * *

Avery leaned into the microphone. "HELLLLLLOOOO, HOGWARTS. Welcome one and all to the first annual Christmas Slugfest."

In the midst of the applause, Slughorn suggested to Snape that "they might want to find a new name for the party."

"It went over well enough," Snape pointed out. "It's not often you get a double entendre that has nothing to do with sex."

"For our first number tonight, we would like to do a song by the Vampire Girls which was also a crossover hit in the muggle world. We changed the melody a bit to suit our style."

Graham set the mood by opening with a brief drum solo. Avery swung his guitar into place and began to play the rhythm. Dewey played his sax with a muted tone as Avery began to sing: "I cast a spell on you . . ."


	27. The Happy Holidays

**Chapter 27: The Happy Holidays**

"I'M WARNING YOU BOYS. YOU HAD BETTER BE ON YOUR BEST BEHAVIOR. THAT MAN, DUMBLEDORE IS DOING YOU A BIG FAVOR BY LETTING YOU STAY THERE. AND SO HELP ME, IF ONE OF YOU GETS OUT OF LINE I SWEAR I'LL MAKE HIM REGRET IT UNTIL HIS DYING DAY, WHICH WILL COME A LOT FASTER THAN HE WANTS IF HE CROSSES ME. AND TRY, FOR ONCE, TO HAVE A MERRY CHRISTMAS."

_Only my mom would send a howler instead of a regular Christmas card. Not that we're ever going to have a Merry Christmas anyway._

"This is great," Reese said as he grabbed another omelet. "At my school the only reason I eat as good as this is because I have to do all the cooking. You know, it would improve the taste a little more if they used Spanish onion instead of Bermuda onion."

Malcolm scowled. "Shouldn't you be over at the Slytherin table?"

"Millicent went home for the holidays. And why would I want to sit with Dewey?"

_Yeah, that is a good point._

"I'm curious, Reese. Not that I care or anything. But I was wondering what you did with my, um, with that ring."

"I gave it to Anthony to give to Filch."

"That would be Hector Filch. Your headmaster."

_Can you imagine? Argus Filch's twin brother as headmaster. I'd hate going to school then._

"Reese, do you know what Filch did with the ring, or is that something that I should ask Anthony about. If I ever bother that is. I don't really care one way or the other."

Reese took a large gulp of pumpkin juice, then turned to Malcolm. "It was the greatest thing. I set Filch up on a date with his girlfriend, and had the ring delivered to him with the dessert. AND IT WORKED. Now, Filch has to get married."

"You tricked Filch into proposing."

"He WHAT?" Argus Filch asked from behind. He grabbed Reese and forced him to turn around. "You tricked him? I know Hector's not the bravest man in some things. I half expected him to bide his time until this one slipped away as well. " Filch smiled as he patted Reese's shoulder in a friendly fashion. "And you got him to do it. Good for him. And good for you."

Reese cast a quick glance at Malcolm. "I did a GOOD thing."

"Yeah."

As Filch went to leave, he added. "I owe you for that. Next time I find you in the bushes with the Bulstrode girl, I'll wait an extra five minutes."

"That was nice of him," Malcolm noted, but Reese didn't want to hear it.

"Malcolm, what do I do? My reputation is shot if everyone finds out that I set him up."

"Reese, get real. You lost your reputation when you became the school chef."

_I still haven't figured that one out. I didn't think Reese could make a cup of tea without help._

Reese looked horrified. "But . . . how will I get people to respect me?"

"They already respect you, because you're a great cook."

"But I'm not doing it for them. I'm cooking because I enjoy it. The fact that they're paying me is just a bonus."

"They're paying you? Do Mom and Dad know?"

"Yeah. I even loaned Dad a hundred Quid until after the holiday. He said not to let mom know. I think he wants to surprise her." Reese refilled his glass. "So, why do people respect me, just because I can cook?"

"I don't know. How about because you're an excellent cook. From what I've heard, the only difference between your school's cafeteria and the average 5-Star restaurant is the size of the wine list. And now that you set it up so that the headmaster's getting married, people are going to think you're this really great guy. They won't even realize you're a jerk."

Reese turned to Malcolm. "I know you insulted me with that jerk part, but I can live with that. And I want to thank you for letting me know that I've fooled all of those people into thinking I was a good person."

_You know, for a second there I thought he was going to hit me._

"OW!. Reese, you are a JERK."

Malcolm stormed off, rubbing his arm. "Hi, Draco."

"Pardon me, Malcolm, but I happen to be busy."

"Yeah, with you're secret project."

Draco paused. "What secret project?"

"The one you and Snape were talking about on the night of Slughorn's party . . . while Dewey and me were in the cupboard, hiding."

"I don't need any help, Malcolm. And just be happy that Snape didn't find out about you."

"He did. He checked the cupboard after you left to make sure it was empty."

"And he told you to try to talk to me."

"Kinda. After I told him we magically appeared in that cupboard after we entered another cupboard and we didn't hear anything."

Draco looked shocked. "Why did you make up that excuse?"

Malcolm looked surprised. "Why should you care what excuse I made? Snape didn't buy it anyway." Malcolm paused. "I figured it out."

Draco grabbed Malcolm's arm. "You're coming with me."

* * *

"So this is where Potter held his meetings last year."

"Yes and No. This is the Room of Requirement. It becomes whatever you need it to be. I need it to be a place to hide things."

"This isn't a room. It's a small town. And where is the cabinet?"

Draco led the way. "This is it. It's counterpart is in Borgen and Burkes in Knockturn Alley. Once I fix the problem with the spell, every Death Eater in the world can use it to get into Hogwarts."

"Nice plan."

"Reese thought of it. While he was me, of course. And he laid out his entire plan in his diary."

Malcolm's eyes went wide. "Reese keeps a diary."

"Mother told him he did. Curiously, the first entry was about how he told Mother he was too old to keep a diary anymore."

"You were telling the truth. Reese really was acting just like you."

Draco sneered. "He was acting the way Mother wanted him to act, except his subconscious must have remembered that I never trusted mother very much."

"How far away are you from completing the repairs."

"About five minutes."

Malcolm nodded. "And . . ."

Draco patted Malcolm's shoulder. "You do know, Malcolm, that if I don't complete this task, my life is forfeit as well as all of my family."

"Tha- That's just the immediate family. Right?"

"I think they'll make an exception for Aunt Bella."

Malcolm thought about it. "I've got it. Let's see? Yeah, this will do it. Malcolm twisted on one of the doors. "There. You see that gap. The door can't close properly because it's out of alignment. You can cast all the spells you want and it won't work. Even Reparo, because nothing's actually broken."

Draco smiled. "Thank you, Malcolm. I can't repair something which can't be repaired. That's a perfect excuse. You-know-who may consider me expendable after this but at least he wont expend me."

"Thank me after this is over."

_I guess it's going to be a Merry Christmas after all_

* * *

It was Monday, December 23. Malcolm, rose early in order to get away from Reese before he woke up. He dressed, and headed down to the Great Hall. Draco was waiting for him. He was ecstatic.

"I have great news, cousin. I was making the last adjustments to the spell. And it collapsed. It seems I was trying to solve the wrong problem. Now I have to start over."

"Do you think they'll buy it?"

"It's true. And they can verify it from their end." Draco heaved a sigh of relief. "I may live to breath another summer."

"How soon do you think you can fix it?"

"With your help, in two days. By myself, I'd say early May."

"And you don't want my help."

Draco grinned. "I always work best when I'm alone. You know that. If I let you help, you'd try to take all the credit, anyway. I can't have that." Draco's voice took a haughty tone. "Because when I succeed then I will be HIS most favored."

"Bravo, Bravo," Malcolm shouted as he applauded.

Draco obliged by taking a bow. "And now, cousin, I think we are ready for breakfast."

They both turned at a noise.

"Professor Lupin?" Malcolm asked in surprise. What are you doing here?"

Remus Lupin descended the stairs and walked quickly to the two students. "Please be quiet, Malcolm. I was hoping to leave early enough so that I would not be seen."

"Okay. You're not here, then. But if you ever get the chance, you could stop by."

Draco nudged Malcolm, and whispered. "You gave him an invitation."

"So what," Malcolm hissed back. "He's a werewolf, not a vampire. It doesn't make a difference."

Remus smiled politely. "Why don't I just say thank you and take my leave. I do have to be going."

"Merry Christmas, Professor."

"I'm not a professor anymore. Mister Lupin will do."

"Goodbye, Mister Lupin," Draco said coldly.

Lupin's voice had a scolding tone. "Such an attitude, and I never said a word against you."

_There's that weird eye contact. That means they have some kind of secret between them that they don't want to tell me about. I'll ask Draco about it later._

Draco's voice softened. "Then I'll wish you a Merry Christmas as well."

Lupin spoke in the same tone. "Merry Christmas, Draco."

Draco grabbed Malcolm and ushered him into the Great Hall.

"What was that about?" Malcolm demanded.

"Nothing. Now shut up."

"I'm not Dewey."

"I don't care. Malcolm, I'll be serious. This is something you don't want to know about."

"Fine. I don't care anyway. I don't need to know anything."

Despite the calmness with which both of them spoke, they were now glaring at each other.

"I'll put 5 sickles on Draco," Dewey said casually. "And not because he's in my house."

"SHUT UP, DEWEY," two people said without looking away from each other.

"You're on, " Avery answered. "I've seen Malcolm in action, He's a scrapper."

"Why," Draco asked softly , "do you have to know EVERYTHING?"

"Quit talking. Throw a punch," Avery suggested.

"Don't encourage them," Dewey warned. "They'll act contrary out of spite."

"I'm concerned," Malcolm explained.

"You're nosey."

"That too. But when . . ." Malcolm noticed the two second-year Slytherins listening intently. "You're right, Draco. I have no right to ask."

"Dang," Dewey exclaimed. "And we were about to find out what the argument all was about."

"And they didn't even raise their wands," Avery bemoaned.

* * *

It was Christmas morning. Reese awoke earlier than usual. This would give him a chance to sneak down to the common room where all the presents were. With the careful switching of name tags, he could have an even better Christmas than he would otherwise. He quietly dressed, tip-toed to the door and opened it.

"STUDENT OUT OF BED. STUDENT OUT OF BED. STUDENT OUT OF BED."

Reese was forced to stop, not by the shouting, but by the fact that Peeves had thrown a trash can over his head and was banging on the sides in tune to his shouts.

"Thanks, Peeves," Malcolm said as he handed the Poltergeist a brightly wrapped package.

"YOU ARE," Peeves did a RAT-A-TAT-TAT on the waste basket, "WELCOME." He then flew away through the wall, taking the package with him.

"I'd love to know how he does that," Anthony said, "With the package, I mean. It was solid when you handed it to him."

"He used magic," Malcolm explained. He took the trash can off of Reese's head. "Going somewhere, brother dear."

Reese looked at Malcolm with surprise. "Did you set that up? Why? I was just going to the bathroom."

"And you got dressed first."

"Now I'm insulted. I was considerate enough to not risk waking you by being quiet. What did you think I was going to do?"

"The same thing you tried to do last year. Switch all the name tags so that you got all the biggest gifts."

"I never did that."

"OH? And I suppose last year you asked Mom and Dad for a Home Hair Salon."

"I was thinking of letting my hair grow. I asked for it just to be on the safe side."

_Mom told me to give him the benefit of the doubt on that one, but that's because he went to the extent of actually using it to show he really wanted it . . . Then, Mom grounded him for a week._

"It doesn't matter anyway. McGonagall took all of our presents and put them in her office. We can't open them until after breakfast."

"Why'd she do that?"

"Mom told her to."

"Dang."

* * *

"It's really crowded this year," Euan Abercrombie said as he walked with Malcolm and the others to the Great Hall."

"You stayed here last year?"

"Yeah, in a way. My mum and dad came up to see me instead of me going home. They had a lot of fun so we decided to do it again this year, And it's safer, too. For me, that is. Mum gets scared easily."

"Yeah, we're stuck here this year, because it's too dangerous. That and my Dad pawned Nob off on one of the neighbors. I think they went to Florida."

"I heard Florida is nice."

Everyone stopped at what they saw.

"Hold it right there, You Varmints."

"What is that?" Reese asked.

"Thayet. Are you askin' What is Thayet? You should be askin' who is this. Ay'm Pecos Tim. Meanest hombre west of the Rio Grande."

_Huh?_

"Wait a minute," Malcolm insisted. "The Rio Grande runs roughly along the lines of latitude. You can't be west of the Rio Grande."

Pecos Tim scrunched his forehead in thought. "Should Timmy have said east?"

"You have to pick north or south."

The house elf nodded. "Ay'm Pecos Tim. Meanest Hombre north or south of the Rio Grande."

"No," Malcolm corrected. "You're only supposed to pick one of . . ."

Anthony grabbed Malcolm's arm. "It's not a problem. In fact it works better that way."

"At least it works," Professor Snape said as he walked by. He paused to look at the house elf. "Malcolm, I assume this one is yours. Did Thomas the Tank Engine wear out?"

"He's not mine, sir. He just appeared."

"Then your parents, perhaps. But no, the last house elf that dressed up at least was color coordinated. You should check with your brothers." He went away muttering about how standards have declined.

Malcolm looked at Reese. They both smiled.

"FRANCIS!"

"Yep," Pecos Tim replied. "Frank's my compadre, sure 'nough. And he asked me to drop off his gifts to all of you personally." Then Pecos Tim smiled.

"That's great," Reese said. "Where are they?"

The house elf grinned.

"The gifts?" Malcolm prodded.

The house elf was still grinning.

"Timmy forgot something. Timmy will be right back."

* * *

"Master, Mistress," Timmy said hurriedly. "I stopped your brother's like you told me. But there were four of them."

"Four?" Piama asked. "Would that be Nob?"

"It makes sense. At least he's with family. Timmy, you only have to make one trip. Just take all four presents . . . they're still here."

"Bad Timmy. Forgetful Timmy. Bad. Bad. Bad. Timmy will punish himself later."

Francis stopped Timmy. "Listen, you had to come back anyway. Just tell yourself you lucked out."

"Thank you, Master. Francis is too good to Timmy. Timmy will deliver presents promptly." Timmy gathered up the gifts and twirled his glued-on mustache. "Pecos Tim will make sure the mail gets through, Don't you worry, Frank, li'l missy."

After he apparated, Piama took Francis's arm. "I don't know which personality I can't stand more."

"I'm leaning towards Pecos Tim, myself. I hate when he calls me Frank."

* * *

"It's been five minutes," Euan pointed out. "I'm heading in to breakfast."

"Whoa, hold on there, boy," Pecos Tim said as he suddenly reappeared. "I didn't have enough presents to go around, so I went back and got more stuff. Ain't goin' to give no gifts an' leave anyone empty-handed. Here ye go, young'un."

Euan accepted the wrapped present gracefully, and waited while the house elf passed out the rest of the gifts. The elf promptly vanished.

"That was strange," Euan pointed out.

"Was it?" Anthony asked. "I wouldn't know. He was friendly though. I wonder what he gave me."

_Good question. What would a demented house elf give a complete stranger._

"Let's sit down first," Malcolm suggested.

"This is great," Reese said as he opened his gift. "A rifle. Hey, there aren't any bullets."

"It's not a real gun Reese. It say's on that plaque that it's a replica."

"Dang," Reese stated then decided to change his mind. "It's a good gift. At least it looks real."

_It is real. But Reese doesn't have to know that. And I bet Francis removed the firing pin or something._

"Hey," Reese complained, "The trigger doesn't work."

_it's okay. Francis soldered the trigger into place_.

"It's not supposed to. I'm following Euan and Anthony. I'm hungry."

Malcolm sat down as Anthony was opening his present.

"This is interesting. Thin strips of wood. But then, you did say the house elf was demented."

Malcolm smiled. "Wrap it back up. We can give it to Dewey. It'll be fun watching his face when he opens it. Euan, what did you get."

"A book. The One Hundred Unsolved Mysteries of Science."

"I'll trade you," Anthony joked.

"I remember that book. My teacher took five of the questions from the physics section and gave it to us as a pop quiz. I was upset. I only got three right."

Reese snickered. "They made him a Krelboyne because of that."

_I hated it. There wasn't enough room in the school so we had to have classes in a trailer out by the tetherball court._

"Malcolm?" Euan asked, pointing at the package.

"Okay, here goes."

Malcolm opened his gift with muted expectations, which turned out to be justified.

"What are those?" Euan asked.

"This isn't broken," Reese said, holding up his hand. "It had this plastic piece blocking the trigger." Reese paused as he looked at the oversized mittens that Malcolm was holding. "Are those OVEN MITTS?"

"Yeah, I think."

"That's exactly what I need. The ones at the school are completely worn out." Reese stood up, his rifle in his hands. "Malcolm, give me those oven mitts. It's obvious we were given the wrong gifts."

Malcolm carefully handed the oven mitts, heavily embroidered with cows, to Reese. Reese, smirking, handed Malcolm the rifle. It was obvious to him that he got the better end of the deal. At least, he could use the oven mitts. He turned to Malcolm tauntingly.

"Oh, by the way. There's no ammo."

_The psychological complexities of what just happened here boggle even my mind._

"Wow," Anthony said, mockingly. "An authentic replica. What are you going to do with that?"

Malcolm glanced at the teachers' table. "I'm going to get an 'A' in Care of Magical Creatures."

Malcolm got up, rifle held at the ready, and walked up to Professor Hagrid.

"Excuse me, Sir."

"Wha's that ye have there, Malcolm."

"My brother sent it. He works at a dude ranch, so wizards can experience the wild west, muggle style."

"Those places can be quite expensive," Professor Trelawny commented.

Professor Flitwick leaned forward. "I understand the wild west was a violent place."

_I couldn't have worked this out better if I tried._

"They were, Professors. And many times, the only thing that stood between innocent people and the forces of darkness was the town sheriff. And they couldn't use magic, so they made weapons to shoot pieces of HOT LEAD at each other."

_This is great. Professor Flitwick is amazed. McGonagall and Trelawney look horrified. And Hagrid looks like a big kid who's just been reminded it's Christmas._

"Well, Professor Hagrid, my brother tells me that the most popular weapon was the Winchester Rifle, and asked me to find a home for this fine replica of an historical weapon."

Hagrid took the rifle gingerly, as though he might break it. "An' this is exactly like the ones they used."

"Yes, Sir."

"I - I'll have to figure out where best to put it."

"Well, Sir, in the old days, the rifle would be mounted over the door. It isn't in the way, and within easy reach whenever you go out."

"Tha's a great idea. Thank ye, Malcolm."

Hagrid clasp Malcolm's shoulder warmly in gratitude.

_It's okay. The bones are only crushed. I'll have Madam Pomfrey heal it right after breakfast._

Professor Vector waved him over. "Malcolm."

"Yes, Grandma."

"You did something wonderful. You do know that."

"Getting rid of the rifle?"

"That too. But He hasn't been himself since his three favorite students stopped taking his class. He feels that he isn't appreciated. At least he felt that way. Look at his smile."

"Yeah?" Hagrid looked at him, and showed the rifle appreciatively. Malcolm smiled back to be polite.

"You've reminded him that he needs to think of the future students as well as his former students. You've made a special place for yourself in his heart."

"You mean we're actually . . . "

"Friends. Yes, you are."

_I better tell Madam Pomfrey I'll be visiting more often._

* * *

"Merry Christmas, Otto," Francis said as he handed his boss the long thin box.

Otto smiled and took the gift. Piama wished Gretchen a Merry Christmas and gave her a gift as well.

"I'm glad that's over with," Piama told Francis. "I hate giving gifts to people."

"You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do. I was smiling while I was giving that women a pair of oven mitts with cows printed on them. At least you're giving Otto that rifle."

"Yeah. He's always talking about getting one to put behind the counter. But don't worry, honey. Gretchen won't be mad. It's not allowed when it's a Christmas gift."

Francis stopped. "Those packages were wrapped in red and gold paper, right?

"Yeah."

"I thought we wrapped their presents in the green wrapping paper."

"Francis," Otto shouted As he came running out, "Firevorks? How did you know? I von't even wait for dark. I'm shooting one off right now. Gretchen?"

"I'll be right out, liebchen."

Gretchen came out smiling. "It vas such a surprise. Danke, Piama. Otto and I will love it." She followed Otto and the fireworks outside.

"She liked it," Piama said in a stunned voice.

"You never know." Francis replied as he gave he a hug.

Outside, Otto was cheering and Gretchen was shouting, "Vunderbar."

Later that night, after the fireworks had been exhausted, Gretchen would model her new lingerie from that secret muggle store."

* * *

"Piama," Francis said softly as he took her in his arms. "I bought a gift for you."

"We agreed only three gifts each. We wouldn't go overboard."

"I know, but in a way, this is also a gift for me."

Piama smiled knowingly. "Is it red and made of lace?"

Francis grinned. "Possibly." He handed her the gift box.

"Francis?" Piama asked looking into the open box. "I have to ask if you really meant to buy me this?"

Francis looked in the box. "That's the stationery I bought for my brother."

"Those three boxes were all the same size. Do you think Gretchen . . . "

"I hope so. If not, I'm going to have to do a lot of explaining to Malcolm.

* * *

Nob shifted to get in a more comfortable position on the lounge chair by the pool. His tan was coming along better than expected. "Dabney, thanks for letting me stay for the holidays."

"I'm happy to have the company. Johnny's nice but I hate talking down to people all the time." Dabney turned from his lounge chair to look at his guest. "I see you like the sun roof that Johnny added."

Nob adjusted his sunglasses. "It's great. You'd never know it was winter from in here. Dabney, if there's anything I can do to repay you, I'll do it."

"I hardly know what to ask for. My mom's won her appeal and they're interviewing her for a visa this weekend. She should be home soon."

"I'll work on the computer after we eat. I think I can get her onto the list of possible terrorists."

"Thanks, Nob."


	28. Back To School Again

A/N: I just thought I'd note that I finally finished writing the final chapter. It only took me three complete drafts to get one I liked. On the other hand, it took me most of a month to work everything out. I don't think I'll bother with final chapters anymore.

**Chapter 28: Back at School**

"I never thanked you for the reeds," Dewey told Anthony. "How did you know I played saxophone?"

"You look like you do," Anthony lied, hiding his surprise.

"Did you tell anyone?"

"I didn't think I should. You never told anyone."

"Not my brothers. I told Piama and she probably told Francis, but I know nobody told Malcolm or Reese. They haven't made any jokes about it."

"Then the jokes on them." Anthony was now curious. "If we ever get the chance, I'd like to hear you play."

"I'll work on it," Dewey promised.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore approached the boy in the Glen Levitt blazer before he could leave the school.

"It is Anthony, isn't it."

"Yes, Professor. I was invited to spend the holiday."

Dumbledore smiled. "How much a year and a half can change a boy, or more correctly a young man. I was curious as to how your life was going, since your change of stature."

Anthony's answer was subdued. "I don't have many friends, now. But then, I suppose I didn't have many friends to begin with. To be honest, Sir, most of them are at your school and not my own."

"Then feel free to come by and visit any chance you can. Although I fear you won't have many chances. May I walk you out."

"Thank you, Sir. Am I putting you out?"

"Quite the opposite. I am putting you out."

"I suppose you are at that." As they walked down the steps from the main doors, Anthony paused briefly. "Headmaster, I can't help but hear about things."

"They are all probably true. Our world is not safe at the moment, nor is your world truly safe, either. But we try to hold things together." They continued down the path.

"The Chosen One. Is that true? They tell me that boy, Potter, in Euan's house, is the one."

"They have been saying that about Harry Potter since the day his parents died. But you are a perceptive young man. I will tell you this, Anthony. No one has asked the question: Who chose him? "

"I know he's marked by his scar . . ."

"You are quite perceptive. As a wizard, you would go far in our world."

"That's kind of you to say, Sir. But the truth be known, I'm not. If I were, someone would have told me . . . years ago."

"But you are comfortable around magic. That should count for something."

"I was taught that magic is not to be feared. Better to fear the magician."

Albus clapped his hands together. "A simple truth that so few can see. For that, I officially invite you to our next Quidditch Match."

"I would like that."

"I will inform your headmaster. And please let him know that I send him my congratulations. Have they set a date?"

"I wouldn't know, Sir. They were going abroad for the holiday to discuss the matter. That was all I could overhear. Not that I was eavesdropping. I just happened to be close by."

"Just happened?"

"I was the server for the dinner where Headmaster Filch proposed."

"Then it was information honestly obtained."

"May I ask, Sir. I don't mean to be rude. But I noticed your hand."

Albus held out his hand which looked withered and burned. "It was necessary. Greater good came from taking this injury than if I had let it pass."

"Are you speaking philosophically?"

"As a realist. There are many choices that come before each of us in our lives. But we must learn to see past the immediate gain or loss to see what is truly gained or lost. I could cite several examples."

"I know of one, Sir. Taking easy money instead of responsibility."

"And how does responsibility fit you."

"I work in the kitchen for most of my free time. I can't see what the future has in store for me, but, before, I could not see a future at all."

"The future is always in eternal fog. It only becomes clear when we are near the end." Albus's eyes twinkled. "I always find comfort knowing that there still are a few things I don't know. And here we are."

Albus passed Anthony into the hands of the Aurors who in turn led him to a limousine. With his good hand, he waved goodbye to the boy. Then he turned to walk back to the school. He had to prepare for his meeting with another young man.

As for Anthony, the last time he had talk to the headmaster it was with anger and fear. This time, it was as though they were equals. It was a strange feeling for a boy in his situation. It was at about the halfway point back to the school he began to look at his hand. "A greater good?" he pondered.

* * *

Malcolm was waiting as Draco left the Great Hall after breakfast. "How did it go, yesterday? Did you wow them?"

Draco sneered as he turned toward the main doors. "I will have you know, Malcolm, that apparating is still difficult to do if you've never done it before."

"But you know how it's done," Malcolm said, holding the door open.

"Yes, I know. And if I managed to do it right away, people might suspect I was already doing it. That I might have been doing it."

"That's ridiculous. Some people have a knack for magic."

"So speaks the youngest known animagus."

"Second youngest. There's that kid in Japan who can change into a mouse, and he's still younger than when I first changed."

"Then you haven't been reading the Daily Prophet. He was demonstrating his abilities to some friends, and neglected to consider the neighbor's cat."

Malcolm looked surprised. "That's . . . "

Draco laughed. "That's why underage wizards are discouraged from using magic. It was a stupid way to die."

"I was going to say it's a disgusting way to die."

"I suppose it depends on your point of view. Undoubtedly, the cat wasn't disgusted by it at all."

"Can we change the subject."

"I already did. We're talking about apparating and how difficult it is. Remember?"

"Well, this time it's going in a different direction. I just realized we're passing Hagrid's hut. If he see's me, I'm trapped."

"Is he still all golly-woggle because you gave him a Christmas present? Insult him a few times. He'll get over it." Draco sniffed. "I hate February. I prefer my cold with ice and snow, not slush puddles and dampness."

"You wanted to walk outside to talk with me."

"I need your help. It's about Potter. He heard me arguing with Vincent. I have him and Greg watching out for me. They don't like it, but I can't tell them what I'm doing."

_That's one of the weird things about Draco. In public, they're always Crabbe and Goyle but in private he always uses their first names._

"I don't know. Maybe it's because they don't like wearing dresses."

Draco looked coldly at Malcolm. Considering the weather, it wasn't difficult. Then he shrugged his shoulders.

"I suppose you would know about that. But Greg actually enjoys it. He loves teasing the boys when we walk by. He even told me that he would love to get into a broom closet with one of them just to see their reaction when he changed back."

_I was about to say that sounds sick, but I would love to be there to see that._

Draco looked at Malcolm. "No comments."

"I was thinking that would be pretty funny."

"And what do you think I should do."

"Keep walking. If we stand here any longer, Hagrid might spot us and invite us in for tea."

"Malcolm," Hagrid called cheerfully from his doorway. "I saw ye standin' out there. Ye got one of yer little friends wit' ye?"

"Uh, yeah, Hagrid. But it's my cousin, Draco. We were just leaving."

"I understand," Hagrid said with mixed emotions. "I jus' thought ye might like some tea."

Draco groaned. "It's starting to rain. It's not supposed to rain today."

"C'mon." Malcolm grabbed Draco and pulled him toward Hagrid's hut. They reached cover, just before the rain came pouring down. "Hagrid," Malcolm said in a pleading voice. "We would like to come in for tea, if you let us."

"Malcolm," Draco hissed.

"It's your choice," Malcolm hissed back. "Tea with Hagrid or walk back in the rain." Before Draco could say anything, he added, "He's family."

"Wait," Draco said loudly. "How is Hagrid part of our family?"

Hagrid couldn't help but laugh. "Don' go aroun' tellin' people that, Malcolm. Me havin' any relationship to a Malfoy."

Malcolm was smiling. "But you do, Hagrid. You're godfather to his cousin, Norbert."

* * *

Harry was looking at the Maurader's Map intensely. Ron was standing next to him.

"There they are, Harry. Crabbe and Goyle are in their dorm room. But I can't find Malfoy. Do you think he disappeared again."

"Not without his lookouts. He wouldn't take the chance."

"He knows you heard him," Ron pointed out. "He might have, just to trip us up."

"He might, but . . ."

"What is it?"

"I just noticed. There are three dots in Hagrid's hut."

"He made some new friends. I mean, I do like Hagrid but . . . Harry?"

Harry Potter stared in disbelief. Draco Malfoy and his cousin were in Hagrid's hut.

Ron looked at the names and then at Harry's expression. "Maybe they're putting him under the Imperious curse. We should warn someone."

"Ron, do you honestly believe that? If it were just Malfoy, but not with Malcolm there."

"You're right, Harry, that's not Malcolm's style."

"What could they be doing?"

* * *

"I don' mind clearin' the air," Hagrid said strongly as he handed Draco his cup of tea, "but you are the reason I don' have Norbert anymore. You an' yer snitchin'."

"Then there was a dragon," Draco said with a feeling of triumph. "And you would have had your dragon if Potter hadn't been so stuck up about keeping it a secret."

"Harry Potter's a decent sort in my book."

"Then I'll blame Weasley's influence. The first thing he did was turn Potter against me. I was there, that first day, offering my hand in friendship, and that Weasel makes a derogatory remark against me. What a big surprise. Potter then says he doesn't want anything to do with me."

"You had a dragon?" Malcolm asked.

"I'd have loved to have seen him," Draco said, half to himself.

_Uh, oh. Dewey told me about this. Draco's having another one of those episodes._

"You may blame me," Draco told Hagrid, tears running down his cheek, "but they were the ones who turned on me. Weasley's Dad hates my father so Weasley hates me. And he got to be Potter's friend first. And badmouthed me from the beginning." His voice became small. "I just thought I could help."

_Next he'll be talking about Ginny or Basil. I have to shut him up, somehow._

Malcolm jumped up and grabbed the tray off Hagrid's table.

"Here, Draco, have a cookie. You'll feel better."

"Thank you, Malcolm." He took a cookie and turned back to Hagrid. In his tearful voice he said, "Malcolm is the PROOF that not all Gryffindors are scum. And I'm proud that I'm related to such an incoherent rabble as HIS family." Then he bit into Hagrid's homemade cookie and said no more.

"Well," Hagrid said nervously. "Now I feel like the pot talkin' to the kettle."

_All I can say is that I'm glad no one knows we're here._

* * *

Hermione looked across the library table in surprised. "Are you sure, Harry?"

"The map doesn't lie," Harry whispered back. "They're still in there. It's been at least two hours."

"It's a fiendish plot," Hermione explained. "Malfoy is trying to steal all your friends from you, one by one, and has decided to do it according to size. Do you understand what this means?"

Harry couldn't control his grin. "I haven't the foggiest."

"It means Dennis Creevey will be your last friend in the world."

"Seriously, Hermione. What could they be doing there?"

"It's raining. Maybe they stopped in for tea. They are related, technically."

"How?"

"Do you remember Nob?"

* * *

It was getting dark, but at least the rain had let up, when Draco and Malcolm finally said their goodbyes. Everyone was in a surprisingly good mood, the surprise being that they were all in a good mood.

"Ye hold to wha' ye said, Draco Malfoy, an' yer welcome back any time."

"Thank you, Hagrid. And I do mean that. I never thought of you or Buckbeak. It was just my urge to strike back at Potter. And I do see what you mean. We will never be friends, but I will give him the benefit of the doubt."

Malcolm smiled. "And thanks for telling me about the dragon. That was neat."

"An' don' either of you go tellin' anyone abou' that. Or the other thing."

_Like I'm going to tell anyone he's hiding a giant spider behind his hut._

"We promise, Hagrid," Draco said with a warm feeling. "And thank you for the cookies." He patted his pocket.

"Off wi' the two of ye. Dinner's comin' up and ye need to get changed."

As they walked back to Hogwarts, Draco sighed. "That was a refreshing conversation, Malcolm. I learned a great deal."

"Yeah?"

"For example, had it been Ginny Weasley in our year instead of her misanthrope brother, I could have ended up with my own dragon. As friends, Hagrid would have been more than grateful to let me hide his pet on the manor grounds."

_I believe that would have happened. In another dimension. Hmmm. That reminds me._

"And to think he's such an ingenious cook. He must have been the one to inspire your brother."

"Did you say cook? You mean his cookies?"

"I suppose you don't like hard taffy. Clever the way he adapted the candy with the cookie formula. You could chew on one of these for hours. Marvelous idea."

"Huh? Or yeah. Clever."

* * *

As February ended, the weather remained cold and wet, but also became windy. Hagrid was huddled over his fireplace when he heard a thump on the door. He opened it to find a heavily laden owl trying not to be blown away. The owl dropped the package into his arms and was gone. Whether by it's own volition or not, Hagrid never knew.

He closed the door against the wind and cold and opened the box. His eyes opened in surprise. It was a bearskin coat, made to fit. He put it on with pleasure, feeling the roominess inside the many pockets. And in one of them he found a note. "A fitting coat." The note was from someone in Slytherin. It was green parchment written on in silver ink. He recognized the handwriting as that of a recent guest.

Hagrid even appreciated the pun. The bearskin coat did fit him. And it was fitting that someone as big as a bear should have such a coat.


	29. Springtime

**Chapter 29: Springtime**

Dewey was sitting under a hedge. He wasn't doing anything except watching. It was something he was always good at but never had much use for. But now things were becoming interesting. The Quidditch match was about to begin and Draco had not yet shown up. Then he saw his target. The rope was pulled taunt, and the target tripped. Another tug, and the rope came loose and slipped easily back into the bushes before it could be seen.

Dewey remained in place as two friends helped their poor housemate back to the castle and to Madam Pomfrey. He waited until it was clear, and slipped out from under the hedge and made his way to the pitch where the Slytherin team was waiting.

The Slytherin captain was swearing when Dewey ran up. "Well?"

"I couldn't find Malfoy anywhere."

"What about Harper. Did you see him?"

"No."

A third-year girl from Slytherin ran up, gasping for breath. "Told to . . . tell you . . . Harper fell . . ."

"Let me guess. He's in the infirmary."

The girl nodded.

"This is great. We can't play with only six."

One of the chaser's pointed. "There's Dewey."

The team captain stopped short his rant, but Dewey spoke first.

"He doesn't want me to play. If I'm such a good Slytherin why is my brother in Gryffinsor."

"Let him play," one of the beaters said. "You're just mad you lost all that money."

"Money?" Dewey asked.

The chaser laughed. "I lost a fair amount, too. But I'm not complaining. But Malcolm won the Quidditch game for us by playing fair. And he is an honorary Slytherin."

The beater added, "Don't forget. Draco tried to warn us about Malcolm. Maybe he made us keep Dewey as backup for a reason,"

"Fine," the captain said, and turned to Dewey. "You're playing Seeker, and if we lose, you're off the team."

"And if I win, the spot's mine for keeps." He held out his hand. "Deal?"

The captain shook his hand. "Deal."

* * *

Dewey flew his broom high, scanning the field and watching Cho Chang as she flew a figure eight pattern across the field. As he watched, he slowly counted to 200. When he finished counting, he dove, then he started making zigzag patterns with his broom, finally shooting upward back to his original height. He smile at Cho Chang as she followed him.

"Had to get the kinks out of my broom. First time I used it."

Cho grinned, appreciating his ruse. She had used the same trick before. And she might use it again.

Dewey started counting again. This time to 300. The entire time he watched Cho Chang. He saw her look at him, then take off in a dive. Even the commentator was saying she was chasing the snitch. But Dewey knew better. If she had really seen the snitch, she wouldn't have looked at him first. And he was right. But Dewey never lost count. At 300, he dove again, did some of the same tricks, even reaching out his hand. He used a nearby bludger as an excuse for losing the snitch. He climbed back up to his original height and smiled at Cho Chang, who had hesitated but still followed, just in case.

"I was just practicing for when I catch the snitch."

Cho's smile was not friendly as she moved away from him.

Dewey counted again. This time he didn't look directly at anything. His eyes scanned the field but he was thinking about what he was looking at. He saw it. Something different out of the corner of his eye. Forgetting his count, he dived again, His eyes locked on his goal. His two fake runs and his refusing to fall for Cho's use of the same tactic had payed off. By the time Cho realized that Dewey had seen the snitch, she never had a chance to close the gap. But she came closer than Dewey had expected. When He held up the snitch in his gloved hand, the Ravenclaw Seeker was only two broom-lengths behind him and closing.

* * *

"What do you think?" Neville asked Anthony.

"It was a close game. I couldn't figure out what the Slytherin seeker was doing. Not until the end. I'm certainly glad they didn't use him in the first game, against your house. He is the clever one."

"That's Malcolm's brother."

Anthony laughed. "I should have recognized Dewey, but I didn't expect to see him."

"Come back in four weeks. We're playing Hufflepuff."

"If I can, I'll be here. And I think Dennis did a good job as commentator. He was a bit biased, though."

"Do you mean his last remark?"

"Where he said, 'I don't believe it. Those stinking Slytherins won'?"

"Yes, that one."

"I must admit, it wasn't my first clue."

* * *

Draco Malfoy was sitting outside enjoying the afternoon air. It was the warmest day so far and he wanted to enjoy it. With Hogsmeade weekend cancelled there was nothing else to do. And he was in the perfect situation to enjoy himself fully.

"Malcolm, hand me another butterbeer, and please open it first this time."

"No problem, O great provider," Malcolm said. He reached into the cooler and pulled out a bottle. Pulling the cork out, he handed the bottle over.

"Thank you, Malcolm. And these folding chairs were an excellent idea. It is a beautiful day."

_It is. The sun's shining. The bushes block the wind and any chance of someone seeing us from the school. And Draco bought the refreshments._

"Do you think Hagrid will come? I rather like the man."

Malcolm shrugged. "He might, but I doubt it. It's one thing to have tea in his hut. It's another thing to sneak drinks behind some bushes with him."

"There is that," Draco admitted. "Everything is going wonderfully, by the way, with my little project. I fear I shall never be able to complete that task."

"And what task is that?" Ginny Weasley asked angrily.

"Learning to talk with my eyes open," Draco said warily. "Hello, Love. What's wrong?"

"My brother is in the infirmary."

"And you are angry because?"

"He was poisoned."

_Talk about your mixed emotions. That what you get when you fall in love with the sister of the guy you hate the most. _

"I will be honest," Draco responded. "For your sake, I am horrified. I have no fondness for your brother. And I did not try to poison him."

"And I should believe you? WHY?"

"Better yet," Draco snapped back, "tell me why you don't believe me."

"He was poisoned by drinking from a bottle of mead."

"Mead?" Draco asked cautiously.

"It's was Slughorn's."

"He was supposed to give that to Dumbledore for Christmas."

"Exact . . ." Ginny's anger reached a dangerous pitch. "How did you know that?"

Draco drew his wand in self defense. "Promise me you'll listen to everything. It's a bit involved."

"I promise," Ginny said as she slowly pulled out her wand and pointed it at Draco. "Let me know when you're done."

_I'm enjoying this._

Draco swallowed hard. "I poisoned the mead and arranged for Slughorn to buy that particular bottle. I won't tell you how. That will make you an accomplis." Ginny raised her wand hand, and Draco shouted. 'THE BASTARD WAS SUPPOSED TO GIVE THE BOTTLE TO DUMBLEDORE."

"YOU WERE TRYING TO KILL DUMBLEDORE.?"

"No. Why would you think that?"

"You poison a bottle of mead that was supposed to be given to him. That was my first clue."

"Right. And with everything that has been going on, what do you think is the first thing he'll do. I know for a fact he has a spell that only opens a bottle if it's safe to drink. Slughorn's so full of himself, he never thought to check."

Ginny looked at Malcolm. "Does this conversation make any sense to you?"

"Yeah."

Draco sneered. "I think she wanted more than a one word answer. Thanks for the help, Malcolm. Ginny, maybe you should sit down and have a beer after all. You've just explained why my last plan didn't work."

"Maybe I should." She sat down in the chair that Malcolm vacated and pulled out a beer. "Draco, why did you want to be caught doing something like that. You're old enough. They'd send you to Azkaban."

"Which doesn't have any dementors, I would note. Ginny, you know about my family. My father. Can you guess who might have visited me over the summer."

"But Reese was . . . And he thought . . . and he would have . . .would he have?"

"He would and he did. And left me to deal with the situation, thank you very much."

"How could he?"

"First, he thought he was me. And second, if it was me I would have had to do the same thing anyway if I valued my life. Which I do. But both my plots failed, and with more damage than I expected."

"Then Katie Bell . . ."

"Her condition would have been discovered as well as the necklace when she went back to Hogwarts. They would have traced the imperious spell back to me. But no. Her friend had to see what was in the package. Your best chaser went to Saint Mungo's and I was left undiscovered."

Ginny nodded sadly. "And then Slughorn decided to keep his Christmas gift."

"And today we found out the results." Draco put his hand on Ginny's. "For you, I would gladly have changed places." He toasted her, and they drank.

Malcolm added helpfully. "For him, he would have offered a second glass."

"Ginny," Draco asked. "How are you?"

"I spit butterbeer through my nose. Tell Malcolm to shut up."

"That only works with Dewey."

After Ginny recovered, and was convinced to take another beer, she dared to ask. "What is your next great plan. It sounds like you need help."

"Remember, Love. My life is on the line, as are the members of my extended family. Having failed twice, I turned to the one person who was smart enough to solve my problem."

Ginny nodded. "And after Hermione turned you down, you went to Malcolm."

"Hey," Malcolm retorted.

Draco laughed. "Hermione must have told you. But to get to the point, I can't tell you what the project is although, thanks to Malcolm, it will fail on its own and I cannot be held to blame."

"You should know, Draco. Harry suspects you."

"Let him suspect. Even if he finds my secret hiding place, he won't know what to do. All of my secretiveness is simply a cover. I know I'm being watched. And not just by your precious Potter."

Draco looked at Ginny's wand.

"I'm done."

"Thank you, Draco." When she leaned over, Draco leaned over and they kissed. "I miss that."

"Hasn't Dean been filling in for me."

"He has."

"There's a 'but' in that sentence."

Ginny grinned. "There certainly is. Dean's been such an arse lately. It's like he expects more from me."

"Can I interrupt," Malcolm asked. "He knows about Draco. And I know Seamus Finnigan mentioned to him about . . . well, never mind."

"Don't stop there, cousin, You're just getting to the good part."

"You won't like it, cousin."

"Tell it anyway."

"Well, we've all noticed. Every time he sees you and Dean kiss, Potter gets this funny look on his face."

"Funny," Ginny asked.

"Funny?" Draco asked without humor. "Funny as in the way a foolish red-haired first year used to look at him?"

"Harry?" Ginny looked at Draco. "It's not . . ."

Draco lowered his eyes. "Yes it is, love. I told you years ago. I'm the forbidden fruit. I'm the one you can't have."

"But Harry . . ."

" . . . now knows that you're no longer his best friend's sister. When things fall apart between you and Dean, you'll know what to do. And if he doesn't take the hint, you can always force the issue."

"I should go now. And thank you, Draco. For everything."

Ginny left. Draco's look told her that no parting gesture was necessary. Their relationship, however tenuous, was at its end.

"Draco," Malcolm said sincerely, "That was a beautiful thing you just did."

Draco looked at Malcolm without emotion. The words he spoke were also without emotion.

"Go to hell."

* * *

"Why are you crying, Boy?"

"What? Oh, it's just a ghost. Go away."

"No. I won' be bossed around."

"Well, that's good for you. I'd get smacked down if I tried it to stand up for myself. This is the boy's bathroom, you know."

"I'm just visiting. I heard crying."

"It's just me hating life."

"I hated life when I was alive. Olive Hornsby always teasing me about my glasses. I used to go to the bathroom and cry all the time."

"Yeah, at least it's only one person. In my own house, I'd be nobody without Father's money. People are only nice for what they can get out of me. And the other houses. If I do something nice, they accuse me of hiding something. And if I do something wrong . . ."

"Please don't cry."

"It's hard. So hard sometimes. And what's worse, what few friends I have don't seem to understand."

"They never do."

"What?"

"I was thinking of my own life. The taunts hurt me so much and they laughed if I let them know."

"That's right. But I get tired of pretending to be the tough. But every time I let my guard down, I get hurt. I guess you know about that, too."

"In the end, it led to my death. I know."

"Thanks. It's funny, but I feel better knowing that someone does understand."

"You're welcome. You make me wish I was still alive, or that you were already dead."

"That was a compliment?"

"I'm a ghost. For me, wishing someone were dead means I like them."

"You like me? But you don't even know me?"

"A boy with few friends, who puts up a brave front, so that people won't know how much they're hurting him. Does that sum it all up."

"I guess you do know me. But it won't be me for long. I don't know if you've heard, but things are bad."

"All the ghosts know. Even I know. HE is back."

"And I may have to do something I don't want to do. People will get hurt. And if I don't, other people will get hurt. And I have to choose. How do you do something like that?"

"Are you with HIM?"

"My father. My mother too, I think. They were friends, long ago. I'm sorry. This is too personal. I need to go. I apologize for bothering you."

"It's never a bother. If you ever want to talk again just come in here and call out, 'Myrtle'."

"I will, thanks. I'm Draco."

"Can I leave you with a happy thought, Draco."

"You can try, for all the good it will do."

"You have one more friend in the world."

"That is a happy thought. I will come back to talk, Myrtle, if I can get the chance."

* * *

"You're back again?" Filch asked as Anthony can walking up to the main gate, Saturday morning.

"For the Quidditch match. I have an invitation."

"I'll walk you up to the school. Come along. I haven't all day."

Anthony was passed though the entrance after an Auror inspected him, then followed the sullen Caretaker up the path to the castle. Once they were far enough away, Filch dared to ask his question.

"Have they set the date?"

Anthony couldn't help but smirk. "They have, but you have the pleasure of knowing when before I do."

Filch took the letter from the boy and opened it. He read voraciously, then smiled.

"Tell my brother I would be delighted. And they've decided a June wedding would interfere with classes. The date is July the First."

"Would I be correct, Sir, that you are to be best man?"

Filch's dour complexion faded in a wide smile. "You would, boy. You would at that." He paused to compose himself. "But that's nobody else's business. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir. Completely."

"Good."

By the time they reached the castle, Filch had his sour demeanor back in place and ushered the boy inside as though he were any other recalcitrant student.

* * *

"I'm sorry to hear about your brother," Anthony said to Ginny as she went to leave for the Quidditch pitch. Will it hurt your team?"

Ginny smirked. "Asked like a true Quidditch fan. We'll be fine. Cormac McLaggen is taking his place. In tryouts, he was almost as good as Ron."

A wiry-haired boy who looked almost seventeen walked up to Ginny. "We need to get going. I want us to do some warmup before the match starts."

Ginny frowned. "I'm waiting for Harry. He IS the team captain, or did you change that."

"I'm only trying to do what's best for the team."

The boy walked away with a snarl.

Ginny smiled at Anthony. "He even has the same charming personality. And here's Harry. Enjoy the match."

"Good luck," Anthony called, then turned to Colin.

Colin smiled. "Ron doesn't like Ginny's new boyfriend." He pointed out the black boy who was walking out with Ginny and Harry. "On the other hand, Ron didn't like Ginny's old boyfriend either."

"Should I ask, then, do they know who poisoned Ron?"

* * *

Anthony walked back from the match in stunned silence. "That was terrible."

"You don't have to say it," Euan told him.

"Didn't we have this conversation last year?"

"You were commenting on Ron's skills last year."

"Then I'll be honest. I preferred Ron's game last year to his replacement's game. At least Ron never sent anyone to the hospital."

"He's right, Euan," the boy next to him said.

"You weren't here last year. How would you know?"

"I, uh, read about it. Somebody wrote a review of the match for one of the papers."

Euan gave the boy a patronizing smile. "Anthony, have you met our newest first year? He knew all about Hogwarts before he ever arrived, even though he never heard about it before."

"That's not true," the boy contended. "I spent a lot of time reading up on everything once I got here. It wasn't my fault I never read the books.."

"What books?"

"Are you done? 'Luna Lovegood asked as she walked up. "The ones I lent you. Did you finished with the back issues of the Quibbler?"

"All of them." This time the boy gave Euan a patronizing smile. "Even the ones with your articles in them."

Euan and Anthony looked at Luna in surprise. "You write for the quibbler?"

"Only about special events, such as the Quidditch games. My article for this one will probably be longer than for Ron Weasley's first game last year. This keeper is much more untalented."

The four of them walked back to the castle, the boys listened as Luna related the latest conspiracy theories to them, looking serious the entire time. As they approached the castle, Luna turned to the first year boy.

"You never answered Euan's question."

"Which one?"

"What books?"

The boy noticed the three watching him curiously.

"I never read the books. I always waited for the movies to come out."

"So do I," Anthony added. "Is it too early for dinner?


	30. The Way Of Things

A/N: In view of the fact that a few readers are curious about the boy with no name. I thought I would answer a question in advance. The reference in this chapter is to "Shake and Bake". Now that you're confused, I'll let you get on with the story.

**Chapter 30: The Way Of Things**

It was May. Very little had happened for months except classes, homework and other boring things. But that was about to change.

"Ready?" Malcolm asked.

"He is a friend of mine," Draco pointed out.

"Really?" Dewey asked. "I didn't think he had any friends."

"He doesn't. But Father always said that, should I become aware of any danger, I should mention that he is a friend. It could prove useful."

Malcolm paused. "Was it useful?"

"Not really. Shall we get the prat?"

"I'll get into position," Dewey told them. He pulled his wand out and held it behind his back Draco and Malcolm nodded and did the same. Then they waited patiently for the three seconds it took their quarry to turn the corner and face them.

"You are blocking the corridor," Nott said without emotion.

"No. I'm not." Malcolm said with a smile. "I'm blocking you." He pulled his wand from behind his back. Dewey and Draco had taken a step to either side of Nott and displayed their wands as well.

Nott scowled at Malcolm. "What do you want?"

"It's simple. I was just thinking about last Hallowe'en. And I remembered that you were involved in a little incident."

"Then hex me and get it over with."

"No. I want you to tell me exactly what spell you cast that night. I want to make sure I punish you properly."

"Fair enough. I think your three days of mindless rambling was punishment enough for me, although I would have hoped for more."

Dewey smirked, and poked Nott with his wand just for fun. "Why would you want to punish Malcolm. If it's a good enough reason, I'll switch sides."

"He made my uncle look like an idiot."

This time Draco snorted. "But your uncle is an idiot. He has a remarkable mind and no sense of proportion. Father would make me laugh as a child by telling me his fiendishly clever plans. Even when I was in diapers I was smart enough to know how stupid they were."

"True," Nott agreed. "But we had managed to keep everything contained within a certain circle of people. Malcolm released that information to the entire world. It was a matter of family pride."

"And the spell?" Macolm asked.

"The Imperious Curse. Be happy it didn't work."

"Um, Theodore," Draco said with a hint of embarrassment. "Didn't you know that Malcolm is immune to the Imperious Curse? Alistor Moody made that obvious a couple of years ago."

"I missed hearing about that," Nott admitted.

"No problem," Malcolm said cheerfully. "It's the thought that counts."

Nott nodded. "And you revenge will be?"

"NOX," Malcolm shouted. Nott immediately fell asleep.

"You know. This isn't as much fun as I thought it would be," Dewey pointed out.

"It never is," Draco admitted. "You plan and plan and then, in an instant, it's over."

"Let's just get him placed then cast the spell," Malcolm suggested.

"The Great Hall?" Draco suggested.

"Too obvious," Malcolm pointed out. "Everybody would see him right away. We need a place that people will go, but not all at once. A place that's out of the way, and possibly a little dangerous."

Draco smiled. "You've already decided."

"And you two are going to love it."

* * *

"FINITE INCANTATUM" Malcolm called out as all three hid themselves to watch.

Theodore Nott awoke to find himself in a strange place. He was still groggy as he looked around. He appeared to be in a tower. And it was strange. There were windows running floor to ceiling but no doors. His wand was missing but it appeared they hadn't done him any physical harm. His only worry was the large bats hanging from the rafters above him.

Then he noticed the first strange thing. For as many large bats as there were, there were no dropping on the floor. In fact, the floor seemed spotless. No furniture, but no dust either. It was very unusual. Shortly, he noticed the second strange thing. A bat flew in, but it flew in upside down AND it appeared to have feathers. A moment's thought and Nott realized the horrible truth. Those weren't bats above him. They were owls. And Nott knew exactly where he was. The Owlery. Standing on the ceiling.

"This is great," Dewey admitted.

* * *

"This is wonderful," Hal said happily as he lay in bed. "Thank God that kid Dabney actually likes Nob."

Lois nuzzled his cheek. "We haven't had this much time without an interruption since Francis was born."

"It's times like these, honey, that I know that something terrible is going to happen to ruin everything."

"What can happen? Malcolm and Dewey are safe at Hogwarts. Francis is settled down with a responsible job. And Reese even has a job."

"Who knew that boy could cook? This is the first time I've actually thought about bringing him home."

"Why? What's wrong with my cooking?"

"Nothing," Hal said quickly while he tried to think. He turned to Lois and smiled. "I'm just curious how close his skills come to yours."

Lois eyed Hal carefully. "You want to eat out tonight?"

Hal settled himself on the bed. "For a change of pace. We could bring Nob with us. Like a family outing. I miss those."

"Fine, we'll go out to dinner. You can get Nob." A hoot was heard from outside the window. "That must be another letter from the boys at school."

Hal grinned. "Then Malcolm can go get Nob. That gives us another twenty minutes."

Lois grinned in return. "You're never satisfied. Are you?"

"Nonsense. I'm always satisfied."

* * *

The steak house was fairly crowded, but the family of four had no trouble getting a table. All of them ordered the same thing. The largest steak with all the trimmings. Lois had a coupon. And she knew they could get doggy bags.

"Nob, you could at least chew before you swallow."

"Or-e, on,"

"Swallow first before you apologize."

Nob swallowed. "Sorry, Mom."

_I won't say anything, but it's obvious Mom's putting on some weight. At least it doesn't show in her face yet. I hope I'm there when she realizes it._

"Malcolm, how's school? I heard a couple of things."

"Some girl got her hands on a cursed necklace. But she's fine now,"

"And the Weasley boy? Molly wrote me that he was poisoned."

"Yeah, but it was an accident. And it happened right in front of the potions teacher. As soon as Slughorn knew what was happening, he cured Ron."

Lois nodded. "And he spent two weeks in the hospital because of?"

"Madam Pomfrey. She thinks a hangnail requires a week of bed rest."

"And how's Draco."

Malcolm smiled. "He's getting to be pretty normal. I even got him on speaking terms with Uncle Hagrid." He turned to Nob. "He expects you to get straight O's when you get to school. He doesn't want you to embarrass him."

"Right. I heard he got expelled."

Lois frowned at Nob. "It may have taken fifty years, but he proved he was innocent. Don't forget that, young man. And now he's a teacher at that very same school. He's a good role model. And how's Dabney.? You go over there a lot after school."

Nob eyed his parents carefully, then decided not to tell his mom that his dad was the one that told him to. "He's OK. That business he has with Johnny is doing pretty good."

"And he still does his school work?"

"He's a Krelboyne, Mom. He still volunteers for extra homework. And he does all the purchase orders and keeps the books."

"That's Malcolm's influence," Hal pointed out. "He managed to bring two different people from two different worlds who had exactly what it took to make the business work."

_Is he complementing me or blaming me?_

"Um, yeah, Dad."

Lois swallowed her piece of steak. "Have you heard anything about his mom?"

"His mom?" Hal asked. "I know she was deported. What else happened?"

Lois laughed. "It seems that someone with her name is on a list with the CIA. Some kind of terrorist group. They stopped her at the airport and forced her to go back to Argentina. Not that her attitude helped any. That woman has always been rude."

Nob smiled. "Dabney says his mom wants him to come to Argentina. At least to visit."

"I feel sorry for that kid," Hal commented.

"HAL? Don't say things like that even if it is true. I'm sure Dorene has some feeling that comes close to love for her son."

"You're probably right, Lois. So, Nob. You have all the info. Why does his mom want to stay in South America."

"Her TV show got renewed for another season."

Three forks dropped. Three voices said, "Her TV show?"

"Yeah, it's supposed to be a situation comedy. She's the step-mother or something, and each episode she goes around and insults everybody. It's called The American Witch. Dabney said she won a best actress award or something."

_Who would have guessed it?_

* * *

The man watched surreptitiously from his corner table. Fortunately, he had experience with muggles and blended in easily. But he watched his prey carefully. The Dark Lord might feel that a little influence was needed. In which case, a seven year old wizard would be put in the care of an old friend of the Master.

* * *

Malcolm was told to stay after class. Professor McGonagall was not in a good mood.

"Where did you disappear to over the weekend?"

_I hate this. I had a perfect lie planned. On the other hand, I have a great way to tell the truth._

"I thought it might be a good idea not to be around, so I delivered my letter to my parents. And then they insisted on taking me out to dinner so we could talk."

"Really?" McGonagall was not impressed. "Would this be related to Theodore Nott in any way."

"Yes, Ma'am. But I felt I had to do something after I found out what he did to me on Hallowe'en."

_Yeah. I like that look. She's considering my point of view and now she'll decide I'm right. Uh, oh. She's giving me the wrong look._

McGonagall smiled without being friendly about it. "And what did you do to Mister Nott?"

"Nobody told you?"

"He's been missing for three days."

Malcolm smiled. "He's in the Owlery."

_Yes. This is a good day._

* * *

Dewey smiled as Malcolm walked outside.

"No more detentions?"

"Plenty. But it was worth it. How's Nott doing?"

"I think he has a permanent fear of heights." Dewey paused. "And of us."

"I can live with that. I'd hate to have to watch my back all the time. Why are you out here?"

"I can't decide whether to visit the Giant Squid or go to Quidditch practice."

Malcolm frowned. "I thought Slytherin had played all their games."

"Yeah."

"Then why are they practicing."

"They're not. But Gryffindor is. All they have to do is win big and they get the cup. They probably will. Ron's back on the team."

* * *

Theodore Nott was in a good mood. He was asked to deliver a message to Draco Malfoy. It was a simple message that, hopefully, had a sinister meaning. He waited until they were conveniently alone in the common room.

"Draco, I was asked to tell you that your cousin Norbert is doing fine. As are you."

Draco smiled at the news. "Then that means there is nothing to worry about."

"It is good news, then?"

"And I have better news for you, Theo." Draco grinned, knowing Nott did not like that form of his name. "You're also doing fine because you're minding your own business. Isn't that wonderful." Draco turned to leave the common room, then paused. "And, Theo. I'll let you know if I need to send a return message."

Nott was not amused. Word gets around, and he knew Malfoy was playing a dangerous game. One other thing he did know was that the message was not supposed to be reassuring. He would not wait for a reply. He would write his own message.

The text was simple. Malfoy expressed surprise, then anger. He stormed away as though he had been insulted. Nott thought it best not to add his own opinion. He would let the reader draw his own conclusions.

* * *

"Myrtle?"

"I was hoping you would come back. I like talking to you." She paused. "And I was hoping you wouldn't need to."

"Thanks. I do appreciate the thought. But it's hard for me to do anything these days. Everyone is watching me."

"What happened?"

"Everything. I've been trying to pretend, hoping things would work out. But they suspect. He suspects. Even now, he's watching me. He wants to make me do things for him. Things that will hurt people."

Myrtle watched helplessly as Draco grabbed the rim of the sink, tears running down his face.

"Your friends? Can't they help?"

"Help? They've already done as much as they could. And their lives are at risk, too." He looked down in the sink. "You wished I were dead, once. Maybe that's the answer. Maybe I can solve the problem that way."

Myrtle, startled by what she was hearing, floated above the cubicle she was in. "Don't," she called to him softly. "Tell me what's wrong . . . I CAN help you . . ."

"NO ONE can help me," Draco said through his tears. His mind was racing. Thinking about all his plots and plans that seemed about to unravel. "I can't do it . . . I can't . . . It won't work . . . and unless I do it soon." Draco's body shook. "He says he'll kill me."

He looked up, and saw someone's reflection in the mirror. It was Potter. Draco wheeled around, drawing his wand, and shouted a hex. With the tears still in his eyes, he swore he never even came close.

Potter cast a spell at him, and Draco raised his wand to block it. He tried another hex but missed Potter again. Potter's curse missed him, but barely..

Draco was desperate. He could vaguely hear Myrtle shouting. Everything seemed to be going in slow motion. He had to do it. There was no choice. It was the only way he could stop that Gryffindor. He raised his wand and started to shout out "Crucio." But he never finished. As the sudden pain swept him into unconsciousness, his last thought was, "I never win."

* * *

Malcolm's first reaction was that he was glad the ghost appeared just as he was leaving the cubicle and not earlier. He then pointed out that this was a boy's bathroom.

"It was horrible," Moaning Myrtle told him in return. Malcolm listened intently. Ten minutes later, Myrtle was in the next bathroom repeating her story and Malcolm was in the infirmary.

"No one is permitted to see him," Madam Pomfrey insisted.

"But I'm family."

"No one. He's resting, now." Madam Pomfrey looked at the worried boy in front of her. "Malcolm, he'll make a full recovery. It was his luck that Professor Snape was close by and heard his screams. Severus's quick thinking saved your cousin's life."

"Then it's all true? About Potter?"

"I'm afraid so. And Professor Snape is taking care of that matter as well. DO NOT concern yourself."

"I won't."

"I want you to promise, Malcolm. Don't do anything."

"I promise. And if I do anything, it'll only be moving to another house."

Malcolm stormed off, trying to control his anger. He succeeded by taking every wrong turn he could. By the time he returned to Gryffindor, a couple of hours later, he was down to a slow burn. "Excelsior."

The Fat Lady's portrait opened to let him in. As fate would have it, the first person he saw was the last person he wanted to see. And that person noticed him.

"Malcolm."

"Harry," Malcolm said with surprising charm, "I heard about your work. Nice style. Was I the inspiration for the crisscross pattern? You know. Keep it in the family?"

"I know you're upset."

"Upset? I'm just confused. Does being the chosen one mean you're going to be the hero or the replacement?"

"I deserve that . . ."

"A witty comment?" Malcolm laughed. "I doubt it. But don't worry. I promised I wouldn't give you what you deserve. But between you and me, you can go to hell."

"That's not fair," Ron said in Harry's defense."

"Fair? What do you know of fair, Weasel? Fair is when you get YOUR way."

Malcolm turned to go to his dorm, but Hermione risked grabbing his hand. "Malcolm, it was an accident."

"I don't care, Granger. And in view of who your friends are, we're no longer on a first name basis." Malcolm drew his wand. "You want ME to have an accident?"

Hermione let go of him. Malcolm didn't wait to see anyone's reaction but ran up to his dorm room. In seconds, all of his belongings were flying into his trunk. The trunk closed, and Malcolm sat heavily upon it.

_I don't care what I promised. I'm going to show them what I can do. I'm going to show them what kind of accidents I can cause._

Releasing all of his anger, Malcolm pulled out his wand and opened the door to leave his dorm.

White.

Everything was white.

_This happened once before._

After what seemed only a short time, the white faded into black. It was night. Malcolm was in a cemetery. At his feet was a gravestone. In the moonlight, he read, "Basil Malfoy. Beloved Brother. Beloved Friend."

The wand dropped from Malcolm's hand. His anger faded into tears as he began crying for no reason. Even after he stopped crying, he still stood there, unable to move.

Soft footsteps came up behind him. "Somehow, I thought I'd find you here."

"I'm not in the mood to listen."

"I listened to Draco, because I trusted him. The least you could do is listen to me."

Malcolm sighed. "You're going to tell me it was an accident."

"A mistake," Ginny corrected. "Harry found out about a new spell. He tried it before he knew what it would do. He tried it out on Draco. He only meant to defend himself."

"The best defense is a good offense. Potter did a great job."

"Better than he expected."

"Am I supposed to laugh."

"No. It wasn't a joke. Harry learned a valuable lesson in all of this. One he should have learned long ago. Some things should not be rushed into. I promise. He'll be less reckless from now on."

Malcolm turned to face Ginny. "And what about Draco?"

"I don't know how this will hit him. Draco's been talking to Moaning Myrtle. I - I can't explain it, but they became friends."

"I know. Dewey's been keeping on eye on him. Draco's never been in danger before. Not like this. Where it's constantly hanging over his head."

Ginny breathed a sigh of relief. "Can I walk you back to Gryffindor."

"I want to stay here a little longer. I just can't understand why I'm here in the first place."

Ginny walked up to Malcolm and took his hand. "Isn't it obvious. He was the reason that Draco and I began to like each other. Compassion comes though shared misery. That's how we learn we need to rely on other people. The way I rely on you, and Hermione, and my brothers. And Draco."

"And Harry," Malcolm added.

"That's Draco's fault. He kept reminding me of what I saw in Harry. Malcolm, can you understand. Harry was always above me. This proves he needs help. The way Basil proved that Draco needed friends. Draco and I were friends because we were equals. And now Harry can accept help from us because . . ."

"He screwed up big time and leveled the playing field."

Ginny gave Malcolm a frown. "You're mixing my metaphors."

"I'm tired. I guess I'll walk back with you. It's too late to move out, now."

"Move out?"

"I'm asking Snape tomorrow if I can change houses."

"Malcolm."

"Ginny. I almost lost my temper tonight. If I stay in Gryffindor . . ."

Ginny sighed in understanding. "I'll miss you."

Malcolm smiled slightly. "You could come, too."

Ginny returned his smile. "I'll think about it. I have friends in Slytherin."

They walked back in silence. Ginny seemed to know that Malcolm needed to think. They were at a turning point, when Malcolm spoke.

"I've changed my mind. I'm not going back."

"Malcolm, are you going to . . ."

"The infirmary. I want to talk to Draco before I do anything."

"But it's the middle of the night."

"Then I'll grab a bed and sleep there." Malcolm looked sadly at Ginny. "He's family. We're not much to look at. We're never pleasant to be around. But . . . we always stand up for each other. I want to talk to Draco, first."

Ginny called softly as Malcolm turned away.

Malcolm turned back.

"What?"

"Give Draco my love."

"Done."

* * *

"Did you find him?" Hermione asked when Ginny returned alone.

"He went to the infirmary. He's going to stay there until he can talk to Draco."

"Draco?" Hermione asked curiously.

Ginny blushed. "I always call him that when I feel sorry for him. You can blame Malcolm for that."

"Neville said the two of you had a wonderful time at his house."

Ginny couldn't help but smirk. "We did it mostly to annoy Malcolm. We even kissed under the mistletoe because Malcolm was watching."

Hermione hugged her friend. "I'm curious. What was it like with a 'nice' Draco Malfoy."

Ginny sighed. "He was everything I hoped Harry would be. And he was the one who convinced me that Harry and I never had a future."

"What did he say to do that?"

"It wasn't what he said. It was how he acted. He didn't really like me. He was playing a role. I realized then that he was acting the way Harry would have acted if he were there. He would have only been playing a role."

"Would this be a bad time to talk about Harry?"

"Probably. You must be as tired as I am. I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"I planned on berating Harry every way possible. Only he was already doing it to himself. You made me see that. I was blaming that book. He was blaming himself."

"Are we still friends?'

"Maybe. I wanted to ask you about Harry. He's finally noticed that you're alive. I thought you might still have feelings for him."

"They died a long time ago."

"That was a quick reply."

"I've been asked that question by almost everyone I've talked to since Christmas."

Hermione had to smile. "Everyone? As in?"

"Dean. Seamus had to ask, too. Luna. Colin AND Dennis Creevey. Malcolm. Dewey. He was asking on behalf of the giant squid. Draco, of course." Ginny paused, then added quickly to cover her blunder. "Malfoy thinks it's funny that he's kissed me and Harry never even thought about it."

Hermione grinned. "I think Malfoy was wrong about that. I've been watching Harry. You should have seen his face when I told him you and Dean broke up." She smiled as she saw the mixed emotions cross Ginny's face.

"I think it's time for bed." Ginny rushed to her dorm room before Hermione could say anything else. Hermione smiled. Something good may have happened tonight after all.

* * *

"You should be in bed," Severus Snape said as he saw Malcolm approach the infirmary.

"I have to go back to Gryffindor for that."

Snape noted the anger and hurt in the boy's tone of voice.

"If you came to see Draco, you may be in luck. He is awake now, but Madam Pomfrey is giving him a final examination to make sure he will heal properly."

"Professor, can I ask you a question?"

"If you must."

"Has a student ever changed houses?"

"This school is over a thousand years old. It must have happened once or twice. Do I need to ask why."

Malcolm's voice was sure of itself. "I think I'd be better off in Slytherin."

"Thank you for stating the obvious." Severus put a fatherly hand on Malcolm's shoulder. "If you want to, I will do everything I can to bring you into my house. You are already an Honorary Slytherin. It is only a small step to make that a reality."

"You're about to say BUT."

"You are a smart boy, Malcolm. But the truth is: I was hoping you would come by so that I could ask you a favor. It concerns Potter."

Malcolm smiled maliciously. "What would you like me to do?"

Severus had to smile at the boy's enthusiasm. "Nothing like what you did to Nott. Although that was a very clever thing."

"He didn't try to hurt me, so I didn't try to hurt him. Potter's different."

Snape's gentle hand became a firm grip as his voice became firm. "Potter's punishment is in my hands. If anything happens to him it is because I did it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir." The grin returned. "And what would you like me to do to him?"

"I'm sorry, Malcolm. I only want you to watch him."

"Watch him?"

Severus smiled in response to Malcolm's frown. "I want to know everything he does. Every person he talks to. Everything he says. I want to be able to use anything I can against him. I want to hurt him as badly as he hurt my favorite student." His voice became sinister. "And I want to do it without using any magic."

Severus and Malcolm shared malicious grins.

_That is something I can relate to. It's like a parody of that old commercial. His mind's screwed up . . . And I Helped._

"I'll do everything I can, Professor. I promise."

"And I promise you, Malcolm. I will see to it that next year you and your brother will be wearing the same emblem on your robes. And no, I'm not kicking him out."

_He knew I would ask that._


	31. Emotions Abound

A/N: I thank everyone for reading and reviewing . . . and proofreading. Hal is thinking again.

**Chapter 31: Emotions Abound**

"That's about it," Malcolm said as he completed his report. "There really isn't much. Nobody feels like talking."

"It is useful," Snape assured his young charge. "I admire the way his friends try to whitewash what Potter did. I know exactly what punishment to give him for tomorrow."

Malcolm smiled. "He's already upset that he can't play."

"It's a small matter to me," Snape said sadly. "Despite your brother's help, we have the worst team in a century. We couldn't win the cup this year is we hexed every other team out of existence."

"Dewey wasn't hurt badly in that last game," Malcolm pointed out.

Snape frowned. The team captain, who would forever remain unnamed, had decided to switch the players around to see if it made for a better match. The truth was, it didn't hurt. Except for the new seeker, this year's team was completely worthless. And Slytherin might still have won the match if that certain unnamed player did not hit the bludger directly at the Seeker's broom at close range, snapping it in half. To his credit, Dewey hung on to the tail end of the broom as it circled downward. He was only twenty feet from the ground when a second bludger, hit by the same player, struck the boy's wrist.

"Your brother might make a good captain next year," Severus finally said.

_You should have heard him at the match. Everyone else did. When the bludger knocked Dewey to the ground. Snape yelled at the beater, "I've finally found a use for the word, NINNY."_

"The team was that bad?"

"Do you remember Gryffindor and Hufflepuff? McLeggen was of more help to his team than any of our players would have been."

"That is bad."

"Enough of this. I still have one more piece of business with you. Draco is now out of the infirmary. For some reason, he's smiling. And he refuses to explain why. Dewey is watching him for me, but perhaps you would talk with him. I need to know how he is."

"Yes, Sir. I can always ask him what to expect next year. When I'm in a proper house."

* * *

Ginny stopped Malcolm as he passed through the common room. "Could we go for a walk? I need to talk to someone."

"Uh, sure." He turned around and they both walked out of the common room. "Don't you have class?"

"Probably. I didn't check the time."

Malcolm became wary. "And what did you want to talk to me about?"

"I might be losing you as a friend."

"Potter?" The question was asked without feeling.

"I think Draco was right. I think I do love him. Even in spite of what he did."

_This could work out. If Ginny keeps talking to me, I could find out plenty on Potter. And all I have to do is what I'd want to do anyway._

"I guess I should wish you the best."

Ginny seemed surprised. "You're not angry?"

"At Potter? I'm furious. At you? I still remember you and Draco under the Mistletoe."

"We did that to get you upset."

"Yeah. I bet you two didn't even know I was watching."

Ginny smiled. Then frowned. "You did that deliberately. But it won't work. Draco told me too many times that I was using him as an excuse. And I'm not making any more excuses."

"And I wanted to remind you that I spent most of our time together, either covering up for you and Draco or watching the two of you ignore me." Malcolm made the effort to sound sad. "Now I don't have anything to do anymore. Promise me, this won't be the only time we talk. Even if you end up talking about He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Mentioned." This time, he blushed. "I don't want to lose you as a friend, just because . . . things happen."

"I promise, Malcolm. And I'll promise you this. I'll either prove to you that Harry really is a decent sort or I'll admit I was wrong. And I'll do one or the other by the end of the school year."

Malcolm grinned impishly. "Try your best. And then you can apologize."

Ginny laughed. "I've decided. I'm going to make the world perfect. I may even go so far as to force Harry to make Draco his best man. That would be fun?"

"Except for Harry and Draco," Malcolm added.

_That went easier than I thought it would._

* * *

Lois was surprised, to say the least, when Narcissa Malfoy asked to visit. Surprise quickly became suspicion, but it also brought curiosity.

"I do apologize, Lois. This is not my usual behavior."

"If you're apologizing, then you must be right. How's Lucius?"

Narcissa huffed as she picked up the coffee that Lois had poured for her. "He tells me he's still waiting patiently for his rightful vindication. I ask you. How can I talk to a man like that? He's convinced that his side will win and won't accept any other argument."

"And you're not convinced?"

This time, Narcissa laughed. "I love your distrust. It is so refreshingly honest. And I will be honest as well. My side consists of me. That's why I loved Lucius so much. I was always able to get whatever I wanted from him."

Lois took a casual attitude. "Too bad you couldn't train him while you were at it."

"I should have, but I didn't think of it until after Draco was born. It was the first time in my life I was forced to consider other people. If I had Draco before Lucius and I married, I doubt we would ever have had the wedding."

Lois laughed. "That I can relate to. Do you know, the shock of actually getting married sent me into labor with Francis. And I've had a lot of regrets because I married Hal, but marrying him has never been one of them."

Narcissa grabbed Lois's hand in a sign of friendship. "Thank you for telling me that. It doesn't make me feel less foolish for the things I've done, but at least I know I'm not the only one. But I can assure you, I've done things that were more foolish than you could imagine."

"Such as visiting your lowlife relatives for coffee in the afternoon?"

Narcissa pursed her lips. Lois was excellent at making pointed statements. "Perhaps. However, I was thinking of this." Narcissa set down her cup and began to unbutton the sleeve on the robe she was wearing. She rolled up her sleeve to show her sister-in-law the tattoo. It was a snake crawling out of a skull. "Have you ever seen this before?"

"I've heard stories." Lois's eyes moved from the tattoo to Narcissa' face. "Let me guess. You're going to tell me another one."

"I can't tell you everything. I've sworn not to. But Lucius and I were young. He said he loved me, and I obviously loved his money. We were both purebloods as well. We were the perfect couple. And then we began to hear things.

"There was a new force rising in the world, anxious to restore those of us of ancient heritage to positions of power. And we had the chance to, what was that charming phrase Malcolm used, to get in on the ground floor."

"Let me guess. It's the type of deal where you can't change your mind later and ask for a refund."

"Some tried to leave. They left in a manner that insured they would never go anywhere else. But then, the Chosen One appeared. We've only started calling him that. But because of him, I spent a decade believing it was over, and a few more years trying to hold on to that belief." Narcissa sighed sadly. "And now it has come to this."

"And this is the part I won't like?"

Narcissa's voice held all of Lois's scorn. "If I don't like it, how could I ever expect you to?"

"Then tell me."

"Draco's involved with a 'project'. And someone thinks it is taking too long. That someone thinks that an incentive is in order. Preferably one in the form of a threat."

"Are you threatening me?"

"No," Narcissa said in a small voice. "I'm supposed to be threatening Norbert."

Lois looked at Narcissa with steely eyes. "How?"

"The Dark Lord wants a hostage to ensure Draco's devotion to duty. Norbert is the only wizard in the family who does not have complete protection. He's the obvious target. I told the Dark Lord that Draco was loyal, and that his cousins are supporting his efforts. I assured him that if I simply explained the matter to you, you would willingly offer to let me take care of your son until the end of the school year. Having come late into the knowledge of your heritage, you are more than willing to take advantage of it."

"Let me get this straight." Lois was incredulous. "This Dark Lord, the same one that tried to kill Malcolm, wants to take Nob as a hostage to force Draco to do something you can't tell me anything about. And you told him there was no need because I would go along with it?"

"I also told him how proud you were that your pure blood resurfaced in the new generation. You forgot that part."

"Geez. Sorry, lady. I didn't know I was such a bitch."

Narcissa couldn't help but grin. "I could have told you, but you never asked."

Lois laughed as well. "This situation is crazy. This all started because of Malcolm. More coffee?"

"Please. It's surprisingly good."

As Lois poured out another cup, she dared to ask. "What would happen if I told you to take a hike?"

Narcissa shuddered. Lois frowned. That wasn't the response she wanted.

"Could you give me a general description?"

"For my part, I will be punished. But I will survive. For your part. You and your husband have no real protections. You would be considered an inconvenience. You might not be harmed right away. As for Norbert, he would be taken, forcefully, by whomever the Dark Lord decided would be most effective. He would be returned to England and handed over to a trusted guardian who would make sure the boy was kept alive."

Lois nodded. "And if I told you it was a great idea."

The relief was evident. "He would be my honored guest until the end of the school year. He will be pampered the way any . . ." she paused to think of the right word. ". . . normal . . ." Narcissa paused to make sure she was correct. ". . . wizard child would expect to be. I would bring in tutors. That would be necessary. His schooling can't be neglected. And because it will be one on one he may find himself learning more. He'll need proper clothes as well . . ." Narcissa paused. "I'm rambling."

"Just tell me," Lois said, "although I think I know where this is going."

"I can guarantee that, at one point, Norbert will be introduced. And he will be expected to make a strong impression." Narcissa hung her head. "I AM sorry, Lois. Once, a long time ago, I thought all of this was a wonderful idea. But I was young. And I didn't have a family."

* * *

Nob appeared confused when Lois confronted him. "Then you're not upset about my cutting class?"

"Yes, I am. Now that I know about it. When?"

"Last week. Johnny thought it would be a good idea to show his pool while it was being used."

"Which day?"

"All of them. The business tour was on Friday. And I had to practice."

"And why?"

"We're supposed to reenact classic scenes from Shakespeare. I was given Romeo and Juliet, the death scene, with Ellen Harknell. The teacher wanted me to kiss her."

"What's wrong with that? You kiss her then you kill yourself so you don't have to live with the embarrassment."

"Teacher said I could only pretend to kill myself."

"How terrible," the other adult present exclaimed. "To force a boy to live with such an emotional scar."

Nob grinned. "Aunt Narcissa understands."

Lois glared at Nob. "Aunt Narcissa is not your mother. Aunt Narcissa doesn't have to explain to the teacher why you weren't in class for a whole week. Aunt Narcissa . . . and I are going to talk quietly while you wait."

"Here?"

"Against that wall."

Nob turned to the blank spot on the wall and knelt, putting his hands behind his head. He would get a bathroom break in two hours. Ten minutes later, he was told to stand up.

"We came to a decision," Lois told him. "For your punishment, you get to live with your Aunt for the rest of the school year."

Nob was suspicious. "And what about school?"

Aunt Narcissa answered happily. "There's no need to worry about that. You won't go to any silly school while you are staying with me."

Nob dared to hope. "No school?"

"I'll have the tutors come directly to the Manor. It will be much more convenient."

Nob nodded carefully. She had said tutors. As in more than one. But there could be a bright side. "Will one of them be teaching me magic?"

"To an underage wizard? I should hope not. Next you'll be wanting a wand. Just be thankful that your Physical Education instructor insists that you have a broom."

"YES," Nob said with excitement. "When can we go?"

"As soon as you change into your best robes."

Nob ran happily out of the room.

Lois smiled. "That was well done. You are a very good liar."

Narcissa nodded. "Thank you. I've had plenty of practice. And I will tell the whole truth to Nob once he's settled in."

"I'm curious. Where will you start?"

"By telling him I lied about the broom."

* * *

Hal's reaction was predictable. "You did it. We're alone until the end of June. I know how we can celebrate."

"Later," Lois said with annoyance. "We need to go over to Dabney's house and let him know he doesn't have to babysit Nob anymore."

"Can't we do that later?" Hal looked into Lois's eyes. "I'll get the car."

As they drove away, Hal had to ask. "This isn't like you, Lois. Why did you let that woman take Nob? You know what she's like."

"If I didn't let her take him, someone else would have. And I doubt they would have been as nice about it."

Hal nodded. "And why are we going to Dabney's house?"

"Narcissa said two things that were very interesting. She hinted that we were being watched."

"David warned us about that months ago. That's why I'm asking you in the car. What's the second thing?"

"Nob is going to meet his benefactor."

Hal nodded, a rare serious look on his face. "And we're going to Dabney's house because?"

"His mother is still out of the country and I'm betting that boys will be boys."

Hal smirked. "Do you really think there's a party going on at his house? You've met Dabney."

"And thanks to Beatrice and her daughter, Belinda, I've also met Johnny. There's a party."

Hal pulled up in front of the house and stopped. They got out and walked up to the front door. Lois opened it and went in without knocking. Two boys were sitting on the couch in the living room, watching television. Both of them were wearing swimming trunks. A logo ID flashed on the screen. They were watching MTW (Music Television for Wizards).

"ARE YOU BOYS CRAZY? SITTING ON GOOD FURNITURE WITH WET BATHING SUITS? GET UP RIGHT NOW AND TURN THAT TV OFF. IT'S TIME FOR YOU TWO TO GO HOME."

Lois pointed to the fireplace. Both boys, in turn, took floo powder, called out their destination, and jumped in.

"Feeling better?" Hal asked.

"A little. Let's find Dabney."

Lois led the way to Dabney's bedroom.

"Nice place," Hal said as he looked around. "I like the glass ceiling."

"We'll take the tour later." Lois listened for noise. "This way." She found the game room with no problem. A half dozen boys and girls, between Malcolm's age and Dewey's, looked up.

"Where's Johnny?"

"Fourth floor. In the pool," One of the girls answered.

"And how many of you finished your homework? How many of you have your schoolbooks? There are some nice tables out in the den. You can come back when you've finished."

All six scurried out without any argument, two of them grabbing backpacks as they left. Lois counted to twenty while Hal looked around.

"This is nice. Two pool tables. A dart board. Are those video games? How does Johnny get them to work without electricity?"

"You can ask him when we find him."

"He even has air hockey and foosball. This place has everything."

"We're going. HAL, WE'RE GOING."

"Fine. I'll check out the air hockey later."

Lois stepped out of the game room. She smiled as she saw all six children with books and paper. Each of them had a pen or quill in hand. One girl, wearing a bathing suit, had made it a point to put a towel on her chair before she sat down. She looked up nervously, then sighed in relief when Lois nodded her approval.

On the fourth floor, they were able to find the pool by retracing the wet footstep left by those who had gone downstairs. Johnny was on the diving board when Lois walked in. Two dozen teenagers below the legal age paused in what they were doing to look at the new arrivals.

"Oh, hey, tour's not 'til tomorrow but if there's somethin' special ya want . . ." Johnny offered.

"Where's Dabney?"

"You ain't with Child Protection by any chance."

"NO. I'm Nob's mother. Where's Dabney? You're in charge of him. You should know"

"Jus' checkin'. Dabney's Mom flew him down to Argentina for the week. Seems she won this award for some show she put on. He'll be back by Monday."

"And how many of these kids have . . ."

"Honey," Hal interrupted. "My guess is that none of these kids have done their homework. It's obvious they'd rather go to summer school instead. So let them be. That's not why we're here." He pointed at Johnny.

"OK, Hal." Lois turned to look at the kids in the pool. "Go ahead. Waste your lives. Get meaningless jobs that you'll be doing for the next forty years. Johnny, can we talk to you, privately?"

"Sure. Let me just take care of one thing. CANNONBALL!"

"Don't you mind dripping water on the carpet?" Lois asked as Johnny led them to a conference room.

"Naw. The carpet's self cleaning. It'll use the water to get rid of any of the tough stains. It's designed for use around pools. An' I got to be a distributer. I can give ya a good price." He opened a door to a small room with an expensive looking table and a half dozen ergonomically designed office chairs. "Hold on. Accio. Accio. Aqua Dispora."

Lois and Hal watched as Johnny's trunks instantly dried and a shirt and a pair of sneakers came flying though the air. Johnny donned the clothes and led them inside.

"This is my private conference room. Wards against eavesdropping. Anti-apparation wards. Automatic detection spell to warn of any danger. And, at six hundred Galleons apiece, some of the most comfortable chairs in the world. Have a seat. What's on your mind?"

"These chairs are great," Hal said as he set down.

Johnny turned to Lois. "So. What's happening? Where's Nob?"

"He's being held hostage by his aunt, to make sure her son does what he's supposed to while he's at school."

"Whoa. You have one tough family, Lady."

"It isn't schoolwork," Lois said as she refrained from adding "you idiot".

"I ain't any good at rescue operations. You might ask Draco Malfoy. Oh, yeah, he's the cousin. Never mind. I can't help."

"That's not why we're here. I need someone who can get hold of David Winter and let him know what they did."

"Why can't you . . ."

"Johnny," Hal asked. "Did you ever watch any spy movies or anything?"

"Yeah. One of Dabney's friends brought over a DVD. Enemy of the State. Weird movie. Like they were using magic to track people an' all that." Johnny's smile faded. "Like, they're usin' magic to keep track of you?"

Lois nodded.

"I can't help you. If you're tellin' the truth, I can't risk it." Johnny smiled. "But I know a couple of kids who can. They're both master geeks but they're into spy stuff. They're down in the living room."

Hal smiled. "Lois sent them home through the fireplace. They were wearing wet bathing suits."

Johnny frowned. "Alex I could see. But Kyle's a muggle. He's not hooked up to the floo network. And they left their clothes here."

"Then they must have gone to the same place. To the Baumgartner kid's house."

Johnny smiled. "Naw. It's cool. They went to the mall."

* * *

Hal smiled as he stepped out of the fireplace. They had come out in the sports department of Baumgartner's Everything Store. He didn't know much about Quidditch but the brooms definitely looked fast. He had just released one of the display bludgers when Lois grabbed his hand.

"We don't have time for that, Hal." Lois physically dragged him away, pausing as they reached Ladies Accessories. Hal, ignoring the screams, yells and crashes coming from behind them, grabbed her hand and led her the rest of the way out of the store. They walked to the main entrance and into the mall proper. Lois looked out at what appeared to be four levels, each with dozens of stores.

"This could take a while," Hal pointed out

"Not likely," Lois answered. "That man looks like Mall security."

Lois walked over. "You in charge?"

"How may I help you, Madam?"

"I've lost my two dear sons, Alex and Kyle. They wanted to go swimming and, when I stopped them, they went to the mall instead."

"Can you describe them?"

"This high. Still dressed for the pool."

"One minute." The security guard opened a small grate on a stand with a fire burning inside. He sprinkled some powder and stuck his head in.

"Mom and Dad are here to pick up the runaways." The security guard pulled his head out and closed the grate. "They were caught trying to swipe some robes. They were kinda obvious. I'll take you to 'em."

The guard led the way through a hidden doorway and down a winding corridor to a small room, through another door, into a room with a counter. Behind the counter was a clerk, and behind him were the two boys and a female security guard that would have given Millicent Bulstrode pause for thought. The look on both boys changed from embarrassment to fear as Lois said, calmly. "Hi, boys. Mommy's here to bail you out."

Both boys cringed, but Kyle nudged Alex and whispered something. He then turned to Lois. "Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad. I can explain everything."

"Like I would believe you." Lois turned to the clerk. "What are the damages?"

* * *

"You're joking," Alex said after Lois explained everything. "I'm not a messenger boy. Why don't you send an owl?"

"That's a good idea," Hal suggested.

Lois frowned. "But they would know we sent an owl. Right now, we're pressing our luck. We've been out of sight for too long. And Johnny's the only person we know we can trust."

Alex snickered. "Lady, you are in bad shape. Okay. We'll do it. First, let's discuss our fee."

Lois smiled. "I promise never to tell the lady at that department store that I'm not really your mother."

Kyle frowned. "I guess that covers our expenses, too."

"All I'm asking is for you to send a message and get back an answer."

"Without anyone knowing. And in England. We've heard stories."

Lois frowned. "Just make sure he gets the message."

"Can do," Alex said. "I've even got an excuse planned. It's for a school project. I can send an owl first thing when I get home."

"Thanks. Hal?"

"Do you want to stop for carry-out on the way back?"

Lois nodded. "Chinese."

They left to return to their empty house.

"Jesus!" Kyle said when the two adults left. "She's really scared. Things must be bad."

"She's Malcolm's mom?" Alex asked.

"Yeah."

"You wanna?"

Kyle and Alex grinned.

"Why not?"

Alex walked to the fireplace in Dabney's living room, threw in some powder and stuck his head in. "Hi, Dad. I got a problem. I need to do a Muggle Studies project . . . Yeah, but Kyle had this cool idea . . . Staying at his house for a week and doing a psychological chart, you know, how much I freak out about not doing magic . . . He says it's guaranteed to be an "A+ . . . Thanks."

"My turn," Kyle said. He pulled out his cell phone and turned it on. "Dad? Alphonse? . . . yeah, I was thinking about what you said . . . Well, Alex invited me to stay at his place for the next week . . . It's for a Muggle Studies project. He wants to record my reactions when I freak out about magic . . . Great . . . I promise. You can interview me when I get back. Thanks."

Alex smiled. "Okay, we've got one week."


	32. Welcome To June

**Chapter 32: Welcome to June**

"What first?" Kyle asked.

"How to get to England? Things are tough over there and security is tight. Otherwise, I would suggest the floo network. How would we do it muggle style?"

"How much money do you have?"

Alex pondered the problem, but to no avail. "Enough to buy lunch at the mall."

"Okay, muggle style we have two options. We can fly directly to England, for which we need passports, or we can try calling someone we know who is not a wizard."

"We don't have money."

"But I have a couple of credit cards. I can make reservations over the computer but we still have the problem that we're both minors."

"Someone has to fly with us?"

"Either that or an adult drops us off and an adult meets us at the airport. And we need passports."

"France," Alex said.

"Huh?"

"Remember Louis. His Dad's in France. He can meet us. And we can get Johnny to drop us off. From France we can borrow brooms and fly to England."

"I can't fly a broom. We'll take the train."

"Train? Over water?"

"Train. Under water. It's called the Chunnel."

"And how do we get passports?"

Kyle sighed. "We can't."

Alex smiled. "I guess it's underage use of magic, then." Alex paused. "I'm curious. You said credit cards. Whose cards do you have?"

"Mine. I said I was 24 and a student and they pre-approved me."

"Cool."

"Yeah. Until the first bills come."

"New idea," Alex said. "How old do we have to be to be adults?"

* * *

"Passports?" the counter clerk asked.

Alex, arm under his sweater, waved his wand and whispered the spell. Kyle told the clerk. "Our passports are all in order."

"OK, your passports are in order. And here are your tickets. You will be boarding at gate 18b. That is the express boarding."

"Express boarding?" Alex asked as they left the counter.

"Yeah. Frequent Flyers can get special passes to avoid most of the security problems."

"And we're frequent flyers?"

"The computer said we were."

Alex nodded. "There's the gate. What are we trying to do?"

"Show him your ticket as you walk by."

Both boys showed the boarding guard their tickets. The guard waved them through and they boarded the plane.

"This is first class?" Alex asked.

"Yeah. I'll be in hot water at the end of the month. I might as well enjoy it."

* * *

Alex and Kyle were stumped. They had managed to get to London. And a nice hotel not too far from the Ministry of Magic. But they had not planned on one thing. How to get in to find out where David Winter was. They decided to take a walk to the American embassy.

"Alex, what happens when we get there? How do we ask for a wizard?"

Alex stopped. "I don't know. They won't have them listed. The staff might not even know about them. This is ridiculous. We've gotten this far."

Alex leaned against the iron fence of the yard they were passing. "How are we ever going to find him?"

"You're Americans," a young voice said with pleased surprise. "Are you looking for a missing person?" it added hopefully.

"Alex?" Kyle said with wide eyes. "Look behind you. Slowly."

Alex turned his head and spied the boy curiously. "You're a ghost."

"I know," the ghostly boy said. "Charles Rowland, Private Investigator, at your service. Would you like to step into my office to discuss the matter?" The boy waved his hand toward an old treehouse.

"Should we?" Kyle asked, he fear replaced by curiosity.

"It couldn't hurt," Alex told him.

Both boys walked to the gate in the fence and entered the yard. Then they climbed the makeshift ladder into the tree.

* * *

Edwin Paine, dressed as a schoolboy from between the wars, eyed his partner carefully. While Edwin had died at the age of twelve, his American partner had managed to live one more year. On the other hand, Edwin had been dead at least six decades longer.

"It seems simple enough."

"That's what we said when we started," Alex admitted.

"We need a plan," Charles said with authority.

"Really?" Edwin added with practiced sarcasm.

"We have to find out where this David Winter is. And Edwin knows how to do that."

"I do?"

"It's your country."

"I wasn't a wizard when I died. I don't even know where the Ministry of Magic is."

"I do," Alex said. "I looked up the address before I left."

"There," said Charles, smugly.

Edwin smiled. "And I have a marvelous plan, Charles. This is what YOU have to do."

* * *

Charles Rowland walked up to the information counter when it was his turn. The clerk expressed only mild interest because of the ghost's age at time of death.

"Are you here to answer a haunting charge?"

"No. I want to lodge a protest with the American ambassador."

"You need to go to the American embassy for that. Next."

"But I can't find the American Ambassador for Magic there," Charles complained. "And all I know is his name's David Winter."

The clerk gave him an annoyed look, then looked through him and gave an apologetic smile to the witch standing behind him.

"You want the American Consul, not the ambassador." The clerk scried a crystal ball. "He's not at his office. He's gone to Scotland for a conference. He'll be back Monday."

The clerk's look let Charles know that it was time to leave.

* * *

"Scotland?" Kyle asked. "We'll never find him, now."

"It depends on how he's getting there," Edwin replied. "If he's taking the train, then we might find him at Kings Cross Station."

"How do you know that?"

"All routes northward leave from Kings Cross. At least they did while I was alive. I see no reason to think they moved the tracks."

Alex smiled. "And how far away are we?"

"Twenty minutes walk. We could be there by 10:30."

Alex was beaming. "This is great. We know Winter is going north. I bet he's going to Malcolm's school."

Kyle began to smile. "And Malcolm said he took a train there."

"To the wizards school?" Edwin asked.

"You know about that?"

"Charles and I watch them board every year, ever since we discovered them." Edwin leaned in to whisper. "He fancies one of the girls."

"I do not," Charles protested. "I only said she was pretty."

Alex interrupted. "Do you know how to get to the train, then?"

"Of course," Edwin acknowledged. "The train station is this way."

"Edwin," Charles interrupted. "We shouldn't go into the train station. We might be seen. And since we're with them, it might raise suspicions. Perhaps we should go undercover."

Edwin nodded. "An excellent point." he turned to Kyle and Alex. "Do you mind?"

"Mind what?" Kyle asked as Edwin entered his body. "This is weird."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Kyle said with a laugh. "I'm only partially possessed. The train station's this way."

"May I?" Charles asked. Alex nodded, and the ghost flew into his body.

* * *

"What are we looking for?" Kyle/Edwin asked.

"A secret gate," Alex/Charles answered. "It's in that direction, but I don't know how far."

"I could have told you that," Edwin said to himself, technically speaking. "You could have asked me."

"I'll be back," Alex said in a slightly different voice, and Charles left the body. He made himself invisible and flew in a straight line. Two minutes later, he returned and entered Alex's body.

"I'm not going to get used to this," Alex admitted.

"I could," Kyle told him. "I can talk to myself and not know what I'm going to say." His voice changed slightly. "Do you know where we're going."

"Yeah," Kyle said with a laugh. "The secret entrance is active. It's between Gates . . . They call them Platforms . . . Thanks, Charles. Between Platforms 9 and 10. And we want to hurry. There's a train in the station."

The two boys walked briskly to the entrance. Alex told Kyle to follow him, and walked through. Kyle followed.

"It's solid. I bet it's got a scanner or something. I'm a muggle, so it won't let me in . . . Wait, I have an idea. I'm a ghost, which means that I must be magical to some degree. Kyle, could I try a full possession? . . . Will it hurt? . . . I don't think so, but I've never tried it before. . . .Here's to the first time."

Edwin took complete control over the body. "Blimey. I forgot what it was like. But I'll try this again later." He took a step forward.

"What kept you? Kyle?"

"Edwin. Kyle's a muggle and couldn't get in. I possessed him. That gave his body the magic to pass through."

"What's it like?"

"It's too intense, Charles. I'm letting go. Now." Kyle gasped for breath as Edwin's ghostly form left his body. "That . . . was . . . terrible."

Charles took his cue from Edwin and also stepped out of Alex. "What was it like for you?"

Kyle shook his head to clear it. "I could see and hear everything. But I couldn't feel anything. And I had no control over my body."

The train whistle blew. Four boys ran for the Hogwarts Express and climbed aboard just before the train started to leave.

"Tickets?" the porter asked.

Alex smiled and pulled out a handful of Galleons. "We didn't get here early enough. How much are two tickets."

"You need four tickets. There are four of you."

Alex frowned. "But those two are dead."

"Doesn't matter," the porter insisted. "If they're taking the train, they have to have a ticket."

Alex started to say something but gave up. He held up his handful of coins "How close am I?"

The porter frowned. "You've barely enough for one."

"I have a credit card," Kyle offered. "It's muggle, but . . . "

"We don't take credit cards." The porter looked around. "We're already out of the station anyway." He picked out all but one of the gold coins and most of the smaller ones. "I'm charging you half-fairs because you're minors. But the two ghosts have to leave."

"Then we all have to leave," Alex said adamantly. "It's not out fault we didn't have proper directions or time to buy proper tickets. And the four of us have to get to Hogwarts."

The porter reached up to pull the cord that would tell the engineer to stop the train.

"Excuse me," Edwin asked. "Do you have student rates?"

"You're not Hogwarts students."

"Exchange students," Edwin said casually. "These three are from the United States, and I'm from the International School."

"Students?"

"Yes."

"Let's start over." The porter handed all the money back to Alex. "Four students? That's one-third normal each." He paused. "You're all sixteen or under?" The boys nodded. "Twelve or under." The boys shook their heads.

"Excuse me," Edwin said raising his hand. "I was twelve when I died."

"Really?"

"Why would I lie?"

"Right. You were twelve. That's half fare again because you're part of a group." The porter started taking all the coins. "You're still short, but I'll let it go. If I keep arguing with you four we'll be in Hogsmeade before we're done."

Thanks," Kyle said appreciatively. The porter gave them their tickets and walked away muttering that he was too nice sometimes.

"What now?" Kyle asked. "I've never been to a magic school before."

"We sit and wait," Alex answered. "And we get extremely hungry."

"Do they have a club car or something?"

"Doesn't matter. We don't have any money."

"It's our fault," Charles admitted. "We didn't have to come."

Kyle smiled. "We wouldn't be here, then. We can afford to miss a meal or two. For friends."

Charles looked at Edwin. They both smiled.

* * *

Malcolm made the effort and managed to stop Draco. It would have been a normal conversation except that Draco was walking with two first year girls. Neither girl seemed pleased.

"We need to talk."

_That's supposed to be my line._

"What about?"

"Some things can wait until we get where we're going. Mostly because we're already here." The door to the Room of Requirement appeared as they rounded a corner. "Crabbe, Goyle. You know what to do. Malcolm?"

Draco entered the room and Malcolm followed.

"Draco. What's up?"

"Snape wants you to tell him everything you can about me. And you agreed."

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Next year, I transfer to Slytherin."

Draco looked puzzled. "Why would you want to do that?"

"Let's see? The most popular kid in my house put you in the infirmary? Moaning Myrtle was very descriptive about what happened."

"I doubt anyone will truly believe her. And remember, he is the Chosen One and I'm the evil Slytherin. No one will feel bad about what he did. Not in the long run. All you'll do is mark yourself as one of the enemy." Draco sighed. "I don't care any more, Malcolm. I've come to realize that it doesn't matter."

They stopped walking when they reached the cabinet. Draco swung his arm and hit the door so that it was realigned.

"Draco. You fixed the cabinet."

"The spells not repaired yet. But it will be soon."

"A fixed cabinet is not a good thing."

"It depends upon your perspective." Draco gave Malcolm a friendly smile. "Mother sent me an owl this morning. My cousin, Norbert, is staying with at Malfoy Manor as her special guest. While he is there, he will be introduced to certain . . . friends. Do you understand?"

Malcolm nodded. "So, what are we doing?"

"The cabinet will be repaired by the end of this weekend. Then we will wait until we know for certain that Dumbledore is away from the castle."

"And Nob?"

"Will probably be one of the first to come through. To make sure it's safe."

"That doesn't give us a very large window," Malcolm said as he began thinking.

"It doesn't give YOU a large window. I will have things to do once the guests start arriving."

Malcolm nodded. "I'll talk to Dewey. That will double our chances. Anything else I should know?"

"We're being watched. Try not to be obvious about anything. Even in your own house. Everyone from Slytherin may be evil, Malcolm, but that doesn't mean that all the evil ones are in Slytherin."

"Point taken."

* * *

Dewey smiled as he walked up to Malcolm. "You wanted to talk to me?"

"Why are you smiling?"

"Professor Snape told me you wanted a different house."

"And?"

"And he told me not to tell you that it probably wouldn't happen."

"Well, who cares, anyway."

Dewey frowned. "What happened?"

"Let's go for a walk."

"It's that serious?"

"Not really, but I hate when people listen in."

Dewey nodded, ignoring the fact that they were the only ones in the main hall. He followed his brother out the door.

"Where are we walking to? Dinner is only an hour away. I like to be early."

"We're only walking down to this tree. It'll hide us but we can still see people coming."

Dewey stared. "Malcolm. That's the Whomping Willow."

"Yeah."

"You did hear the word 'Whomping'. From the verb: To Whomp. As in: I Whomp; You Whomp; He, She, IT WHOMPS."

"Dewey, it's the only safe place we can talk."

Dewey stared as he saw Malcolm walk into the shade of the willow tree. Then he shrugged his shoulders. After all, it was Malcolm. He walked under the tree, whose branches draped themselves as a curtain around the two boys.

"Malcolm, should I ask how you managed this?"

"I didn't. Dewey, you know how, even though we can't stand each other, our family always sticks together?"

"NOB?" Dewey was horrified. "I thought you made all of that up?"

"I did, but . . . She likes that we take good care of him."

"She really knows, though, that we only do that stuff to him because we're brothers. It's what brothers do?"

"I think she understands. If she didn't think we were doing a good job, we'd probably be visiting your friend the Giant Squid, without having to walk to the lake."

Dewey nodded. "Good point. Is this what you wanted to tell me?"

"No. And I wanted to tell you here so that the Whomping Willow knows, too. She has that right. It's about Nob."

Both boy felt the sudden apprehension around them. Dewey cringed out of fear, because he didn't know what was going to happen. Malcolm cringed because he did.

"Here's the deal. Draco discovered a way to let Death Eaters into the school. He's decided to do it."

"But . . ."

"You-Know-Who has Nob as a hostage."

"You-Know-Who? As in You-Know-Who?"

"Aunt Narcissa's taking care of him, but she always does what she's told."

"So they finally figured out that Draco couldn't be trusted. I knew that from when I first met him. And what about Nob?"

"When the Death Eaters come, Nob comes too. And we have to be there to greet them, like we were part of it all along."

"When?"

"The next time we know Dumbledore's not here."

"But he's not here half the time."

"Yeah, but we don't KNOW that he's not here. Dewey, this is all going to be close."

"I'll tell Professor Snape as soon as I can. He'll help us keep an eye on Draco. And he promised Aunt Narcissa he'd watch over him. Are you going to tell McGonagall?"

"No. Draco warned me I'm being watched. My guess is everyone's being watched. And I'm not feeling very Gryffindorish these days."

Dewey frowned. "That's weird."

"After what Potter did to Draco, it's not weird at all."

"Not that." Dewey pointed. "Isn't that a Krelboyne?"

Malcolm turned around.

_That's Eraserhead. No, wait, he has a name. It's . . . something or other. Wait a minute. He's a muggle. What's he doing here._

"Is that Alex with him?" Malcolm asked. "And that man is?"

Dewey smiled. "Mister Winter. I never thought I'd be happy to see him."

Both boys left the cover of the tree and intercepted the small group. David Winter smiled at them, but not happily.

_He always smiles at us like that._

"This is a curious coincidence. You are just the two I want to talk to."

Dewey smiled. "And we wanted to talk to you. In private. Sorry, guys."

It was Edwin who spoke. "Why don't we give you our news first. Then we can leave you."

"You're with Alex and Kyle?"

"Edwin Paine, Private Detective, at your service. My partner and I were hired to find Mister Winter, which we did with speed and accuracy, plus a bit of luck. We didn't expect him to actually be on the train."

"Do you think you can find my brother?" Dewey asked without thinking.

The other ghost, Charles, scoffed. "You see that. They know about this already."

"It should be obvious," David Winter pointed out to the two ghosts. "These two, and their cousin are the reason their brother was kidnaped. They were told by the kidnapers."

"Then we didn't have to do all this?" Kyle asked.

David smiled. "Had I been by myself, they would not have known I was here. Kyle, because of what you did, I am informed, and I can safely inform others." He turned to Malcolm. "These boys have spent all day on the train with nothing to eat. You might want to take them into the Great Hall. After they eat, I'll take them back with me to London."

"I know," Alex said when David turned to him. "We don't know anything. This whole thing was just to see if we could really get here."

"I am a muggle," Kyle informed David. "We shouldn't have succeeded."

"Duly noted," David said, and left them in Malcolm's care.

"So," Dewey asked as they walked back to the castle. "You two are dead?"

"Edwin has a few decades on me," Charles admitted, "but we both have been dead for a while."

"And you're ghosts? But you're both just boys."

"That's because we were young when we died. I'd just passed my thirteenth birthday, and Edwin was still twelve."

"And you're now Detectives?"

Charles rubbed his chin as in thought. "Dead. Boys. Detectives. Yes, that covers everything."


	33. Meeting Of The Minds

A/N: For those of you who are curious, Charles and Edwin are the creation of Neil Gaiman. There was also a manga book by Jill Thompson. They are listed in the bibliography (Chapter 37).

**Chapter 33: Meeting of the Minds**

"Cheer up, Harry," Ginny said cheerfully as they waited for dinner. "We'll do fine tomorrow. We've been trained by the best Captain Gryffindor ever had."

Harry tried to smile. "But I've ruined everything." His look included Ron and Hermione as well. "I'm not complaining about the detentions. I let all of you down. The entire house."

Hermione looked sympathetic. "Maybe we should talk about something else."

"Kyle?" Ginny said.

"Who's Kyle?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"He's a friend of Malcolm's. I met him over the summer. He's a muggle."

"And why would we want to talk about any friend of Malcolm's. Especially a muggle."

"Because he just walked into the Great Hall with Malcolm."

Everyone looked at the six figures. Malcolm and Dewey were already known. Ginny had pointed out Kyle but no one knew the other boy.

"There are two ghosts with them," Hermione pointed out. "They're just children."

"What's worse," Ron pointed out, "they're coming this way."

Ron's worst fears were realized. Dewey, the only one of the group he actually liked, walked over to his own table. Everyone else walked past to the empty places farther down.

"Hi, Kyle," Ginny called out. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

Kyle looked down from the ceiling. "Ginny Weasley. This place is great. Where's your boyfriend?" He started looking around.

"We broke up," Ginny said hastily. "I'm free at the moment." She noticed one of the ghosts watching her. "Hi, Malcolm. Who are your other friends."

Ginny smiled as Ron muttered that she shouldn't encourage them. Malcolm smiled as he heard what Ron said. Malcolm also made it a point to ignore Harry Potter who was sitting right in front of where he was standing.

"You met Kyle. This is Alex. And these are . . ." Malcolm turned to the ghosts. " Edwin Paine and Charles Rowland. Guys, this is Ginny Weasley."

"Pleased to meet you," Charles said eagerly as he walked through the table and extended his hand. He saw his hand pass through Ginny's and apologized as he stepped backward.

"I thought you fancied her," Edwin asked mirthfully while he pointed at Hermione Granger.

Charles was very happy that no one heard his friend. He was also happy at the next interruption.

"You're new here," an older ghost noted as he floated toward them. "Sir Nicholas Mimsy-Porpington at your service."

"We're visiting," Charles said politely as he introduced himself. Behind him, Edwin was telling the others they would catch up.

"But you're so young. Have you been dead long?"

"About as long as I was alive. You look like you've been dead a lot longer."

"A few centuries," Sir Nicholas said in an offhand manner. "I'm curious, since we don't have to eat, would you like a tour of the school. And I must admit you're coming here is a bit of a surprise. I'll probably ask more question than you will."

The two boys nodded and walked through the walls with the Gryffindor ghost, much to the relief of the Gryffindors they had been standing next to.

* * *

"I am amazed," Professor Dumbledore told David Winter. "We always seem to get the strangest guests at Quidditch matches because of Malcolm."

"He can be most annoying," David admitted.

"I would have said interesting. Nothing is ever dull when he is around." Albus chuckled at David's frown. "You should know that he is not the first muggle friend of Malcolm's to make an appearance at the school, although Kyle is the first one to stay for the match."

"But do you know what they did? This is a complete breach of the Wizarding Secrecy acts. Kyle even has a wand."

Albus's eyes were twinkling. "It is to be regretted that he is too old to be a student. It might have been interesting. I don't think anyone has tried to teach magic to a muggle before. At least, not deliberately. David, why are you frowning again."

David smiled but refused to tell him about Dabney.

"Excuse me, headmaster," Charles Rowland said as he floated through the air. "One of your ghosts invited us to stay and visit for a while. But I figured we'd need your permission."

Albus smiled at the young man, then turned to David. "It seems, in addition to American students, we will have an American ghost."

David smirked in return. "Maybe you should start a ghost exchange program?"

"I will consider it." Albus turned back to Charles. "You are welcome to stay until, say, the end of the school year. If you want to stay longer, we'll talk about that after the students have left. And there are rules you and your colleague must observe."

"Sure," Charles said happily.

Albus nodded. "Don't disturb the students or teachers at any time. However, if you see that anyone is in danger, warn them, or warn a teacher if that is not possible. Can you do that?"

"It's no problem."

"And one more rule, because of you're unique situation. You may not conduct business while you are at the school. That means no detective work."

"But only for the students?" Charles asked hopefully. "If one of the teachers . . ."

"With my specific permission," Albus noted. "Now, you should excuse yourself. The match is about to begin."

Charles happily informed his friend of the results as he sat down next to him. He leaned forward and told Kyle and Alex the news as well.

* * *

Katie Bell smiled at her team. As acting captain, it was her duty to get everyone ready to do their best. "You know what we're up against. We're the long shot in this game. But we have one strong advantage. Do any of you know what that is?"

Jimmy Peakes smiled as he raised his hand.

"It's not a classroom, Jimmy."

"Sorry, force of habit. But I've noticed it. Ravenclaws like their games fast and furious. They like to score a few quick points for show, but everyone keeps their eyes open for the snitch."

Ron was surprised. "How did you figure that out?"

Jimmy was in his prime. "When Ravenclaw played Slytherin. Malcolm's brother was the seeker. He kept feinting. The second time, I noticed one of the Chasers miss a pass because she was looking at the Seeker. I saw it happen with Hufflepuff as well."

"And you didn't tell any of us?"

Jimmy smirked. "I just did."

Katie called for attention as everyone laughed. "Now you all know what we have to do. We play it nice and easy. We pace ourselves. For the first half hour we let them run themselves ragged. When they start slowing down, we pick up the pace. And remember, Beaters, Keeper, don't worry about a few early points if it keeps their seeker from the snitch. We need to win by three hundred points to take the cup." Katie smiled as she said her last line. "I don't care about anyone else. I want that cup."

* * *

"Do you know what's going on?" Alex asked.

"I don't care," Kyle answered, amazed at all the flying brooms.

Malcolm smirked. "I'm amazed you're even here. You're in for a good game. The team's seeker has detention. They had to use someone decent."

He turned to smile at Hermione who was sitting within hearing distance.

* * *

"You came!" Millicent said as she ran to hug Reese. Reese grabbed her in a bear hug, forgetting about the bag filled with pastries that he was carrying. He dropped the bag in front of him and stepped on it as he and Millicent started to kiss. As they fell, they knocked over almost everyone in the first three rows. Neither he nor Millicent noticed. Twenty minutes later, Filch had Reese sitting with his brother. This time, Hermione smiled at Malcolm.

* * *

Dewey grinned as he sat down in front of the microphone.

"Welcome, everyone, to the last Quidditch match of the season. Gryffindor against Ravenclaw. Ravenclaw, top ranked team, needs only to win to secure the Quidditch cup. Gryffindor has the challenge, here. They have to break this game wide open and take a commanding lead to win. Both teams will be playing hard."

The game progressed as Dewey dutifully detailed who had the quaffle, how the bludgers were flying and, in slow moments, throwing out trivia facts.

" . . . There's the shot and the Gryffindor keeper is there. Ron Weasley, for the last three games played, has the lowest point scored average of any keeper for the past decade. For his first two games he has the highest. And Katie Bell is flying at the Ravenclaw Keeper. She's trying to ram him and . . . she backpasses to Dean Thomas who's targeting a different hoop. The Keeper flies to cover, and Thomas passes it back. Katie Bell scores . . . "

Hovering above the stands, Sir Nicholas was explaining to his two young companions the finer points of the game. "I cheated and floated close enough to hear their plans. Did you see how the young lady passed the Quaffle and forced the Keeper to fly to the other hoop, then had it passed back. If she had the time she would have kept the Keeper jumping back and forth. To make him tired. I wouldn't be surprised if this game lasts two or three hours. Look there, a bludger straight at their seeker."

Edwin smiled. "That's why your Keeper threw the quaffle to the opposing chaser! It cut across the seeker's path."

"Precisely," Sir Nicholas agreed. "And caused their seeker to lose track of the snitch. Are you enjoying the game, Charles."

"Not really. I'm not used to just floating in the air."

"Well, you have to practice. And don't be afraid to float or go through walls, either. It's all part of being a ghost."

As time went by, Reese became annoyed. "Why won't this game end? I don't want to sit here next to YOU."

Malcolm scowled at his brother. "Then go back to where you were. Filch left twenty minutes ago. OW. What's that for?"

"For not telling me twenty minutes ago."

_It's okay. Filch hasn't left. He's just hanging out of site for when Reese leaves. I think he's going to toss Reese off the school grounds this time._

Malcolm turned back to listen as Dewey's voice went up.

"CHO CHANG STILL SEES THE SNITCH. THE BLUDGER MISSED AND IS OUT OF RANGE. SHE'S INCHES AWAY AND . . . I think that's a penalty. Demelza Robins just collided with the Ravenclaw Seeker. Yes. Madam Hooch called it. Ravenclaw gets a free shot at the hoops and Robins receives a warning. If she causes another penalty, Gryffindor will lose her for the rest of the game. And no backup. The last time that happened was eight years ago. To Ravenclaw. Ten years ago, in the closest race for the Quidditch cup, Slytherin lost three players to penalties and still won. All four teams had won two and lost one. In points scored, Slytherin was 10 points above Gryffindor and Ravenclaw , who were tied, and twenty points above Hufflepuff. Cho Chang is ready to throw. She makes the goal. I think she agrees. Ten points is not a fair trade for one hundred and fifty and the game."

Everyone watched as Madam Hooch prepared to toss the quaffle.

"And there is goes. Katie Bell get's the quaffle easily. This is the longest game by half that Ravenclaw has played this year. They look like they're beginning to wear down. And the Gryffindor chaser's nearing the hoops. Tosses to Demelza Robins who throws . . . and scores."

For another hour and a half, the game wore on. Ravenclaw's tactic had backfired on them and they were now going through the motions. Gryffindor had a lead of one hundred and seventy and were still pressing hard, just in case Cho Chang did catch the snitch.

"She sees it. Cho Chang has spotted the snitch. And now, Ginny Weasley has. It's a race . . . but not much," Dewey added as Ginny took a clear lead in the chase. "Ravenclaw's seeker doesn't have the energy left to put up a fight. It's going to be . . . IT IS. GINNY WEASLEY HAS THE SNITCH. GRYFFINDOR WINS THE MATCH . . . AND THE CUP."

Anything else Dewey said was drowned out by the cheers. On the pitch, Katie Bell flew over to Cho Chang.

"You played a good game."

Cho managed to smile. "You played a better one. Congratulations."

Katie grinned. "I think we're going to have a party. You're all welcome to come."

Cho gave a tired laugh through gritted teeth. "I think I'm going to take a hot shower and a nap instead."

Katie flew back to her team. It was time to celebrate.

* * *

Malcolm smiled as he caught Ginny alone for a minute. "I wanted to tell you. You did great. You really showed up Potter out there."

"Malcolm, I didn't do it to show him up."

"But you did," Malcolm insisted. "You're a take charge kind of person." Then he smiled. "Someone's going to have to tell him what happened?"

_This is the best plan I ever made._

"That we won? Malcolm, I think he'll figure that out when he sees this party."

"No, to tell him HOW the team won. And I know exactly how you can be that person."

Ginny smirked. "How?" Malcolm whispered into her ear, and smirked, himself, as Ginny blushed. "I couldn't do that?"

"Do you want to?" Malcolm grinned as Ginny blushed again. "Well, don't bother waiting for HIM to do it. And Ginny?"

"What now?"

"Afterwards, I want to hear all about what happened. I want to hear you telling me I was right,"

"I promise."

In another part of the common room and a half hour later, Anthony smiled as his empty bottle was pulled from him and a fresh butterbeer thrust into it's place. "Euan, Matt, that was the best game I've ever seen."

"No argument from me," Matt agreed.

"Boys," Jenny called out. "Look who's here."

"It's the bad boy home from detention," Matt noted. "And . . . What's Ginny Weasley doing?"

"It's called kissing," Jenny said. "It works like this." She quickly kissed Matt on the lips then slipped through the crowd laughing before he could react.

"Girls," Matt said with light disdain. "I'll never understand them."

"That's half the fun," Anthony assured him. "You'll understand in a year or two." then he laughed. "I do believe they've left the party."

In another part of Gryffindor, Malcolm asked. "Well, Dennis?"

Dennis pondered carefully. He pulled two cards out of his hand and threw them face downward on the table. Malcolm dealt him two cards and turned to the next person at the table.

"Colin?"

"I'm good."

Malcolm frowned. "Dealer takes three."

* * *

"And what did you want to tell me," Snape asked as he escorted Dewey into his office.

"The plan that Draco has. It an old vanishing cabinet that he's fixed. It's working now and once we know that Dumbledore is definitely not at the school, Draco's supposed to let the Death Eaters in."

Severus Snape frowned. "And your problem with this is?"

"They kidnaped my brother to make sure Draco does it. Malcolm and me were planning on being there. To show them we were going along with it all the time."

"I understand your position. And I agree that you are doing the right thing. It is better to present a good front. Dewey, let your brother know that is exactly what you should be doing. As far as anything else goes, I will see to it that Everyone who needs to know is properly informed. There are several lives in danger here and we must keep them at a minimum."

"Thanks," Dewey said in relief. "Malcolm said there wasn't any problem with their plan until they took Nob. It's like they didn't trust Draco."

"It should have been expected. The Dark Lord trusts no one. Unless they've already proven themselves. And I know the Dark Lord well enough to know that he will not hurt your brother. Unless he is provoked. And we all agree that we should not provoke him."

Dewey was smiling as he left Snape's office.

"Dewey. I believe Gryffindor is having a party. Because of your brother, you could attend."

"Naw. The last thing they'll want is a Slytherin there. I think I'll go practice the piano instead."

Severus smiled at the boy. "You do have a talent for music."


	34. Something Happens

**Chapter 34: Something Happens**

Anthony was working in the kitchen as usual. He had finished with the dishes when Reese walked up to him. Reese was smiling.

"I've got a plan."

Anthony groaned inwardly. Reese's plans always seemed to cause him trouble. On the other hand, half the time he ended up at Hogwarts. The last time, he even won some money playing poker. Not that he's ever find a place to spend three sickles.

"And your plan is?"

"First, I need to ask you if you want to be a part of this."

"Ask? Usually, you just tell me I'm part of it."

"This is different. You're too good of a friend for me to try and trick you into this. That's why I need to ask you for your help."

Anthony's first reaction was to ask what made Reese think they were ever friends. His second reaction was to just go along with it again. After all, he might end up at Hogwarts.

"Reese." Anthony kicked himself mentally. "Sure, I'll help. That's what friends are for."

The relief showed in Reese's attitude instantly. He pulled Anthony away from the rest of the staff. "We need to sneak into Hogwarts."

"Millicent."

"I wish."

"Then this is serious."

"My baby brother's been kidnaped, and they might bring him back tonight. Malcolm sent me an owl."

"I know. He said hi to me before he flew back."

Reese was completely serious. "We may have to do this more than once. In case this is the wrong night."

"And what will we be doing?"

Reese looked down.

"Nothing. Not really. There's nothing we can actually do. But I kinda gotta be there, and . . . I'm afraid. This is really serious and I can't bluff my way out of it. It scares me and if I try to go by myself, I may not make it." He looked at Anthony with total humility. "These guys are bad. As bad as you can get. I'm hoping if you go with me I can still pretend I can do something. I mean . . . before I met you, I never had a friend. I always tried to boss people around so they wouldn't try to hurt me. It worked. If I ever tried to talk like this to anyone else, they'd laugh at me. But you're my friend, and that's why I told you."

Anthony took a deep breath. He thought to himself that he deserved to be in this situation. He always went along with what Reese did because he could usually get something out of it. And as a result, Reese thought the wrong thing about him. There was only one thing he could do in this situation. Lie.

"Big scary guys that you're afraid of? You know you'll do the right thing when the time comes. It's an instinct you've got. You're just thinking about it too much." He noticed Reese give him a grudging smile. "When do we go?"

"After your last class. I did Lasagna for dinner. All they need to do is heat and serve."

"It won't be dark. How are we going to sneak in."

"We're not. I'm personally delivering a message from Filch. They'll let us in."

"Filch is sending a message?"

"No. I'm just going to tell the guards that he is. I had Malcolm forge his handwriting on this envelope. And you'll need about twenty five feet of rope."

Anthony nodded. He also noted that Reese was back to his normal abrasive self-serving egotism. Now Anthony had to decide if what he did was a good thing.

* * *

Two brothers stood outside staring out over the lake.

"How do you know?" Dewey asked.

"Ginny. I know Potter's meeting with Dumbledore tonight. And Ginny slipped by saying he might be back late. I think Dumbledore's going to take him someplace."

"She might have meant that Potter's going to be back from his meeting, not from some trip."

Malcolm nodded. "I thought of that. But there was something in Ginny's tone. Like she was worried. I told Reese, just to be safe."

"Reese? You're going to give Nob to Reese? But he's an idiot? All he'll do is take Nob back to Glen Levitt and put him to work in the kitchen, And he MIGHT remember to tell Mom or Dad."

"Yeah, Dewey. And Nob will be in a protected area. They can't just grab him and apparate away."

"Reese's school is protected?"

"Yeah. Most of the kids who go there, someone in their family is a witch or wizard. That's why they go there. To keep them from being easy targets."

"Cool. Hey, Malcolm. Since Nob's as smart as you, they could give him advanced placement."

"Tell Mom." Malcolm pointed over to the entrance. "There he is."

"He brought that kid Anthony with him. Why'd he do that?"

Malcolm shrugged. "He wants to show off. Look at me. Look at me. I can sneak into Hogwarts."

Dewey laughed. "That's just like him. We'll ditch Anthony after dinner."

"Maybe before then. He likes to hang out with the Creevey's and those second years he met on the train last year."

"And then what do we do?"

"We wait."

Dewey thought briefly. "Does Draco have a signal or something. He never said how he'd let us know when."

"Not really. He told me we'd know when he wasn't smiling any more."

"As long as he doesn't start crying again. And he's still acting weird. Do you know what we did Sunday. He dragged me down to Hagrid's to have tea and cookies. And he likes the cookies! I tried one and had to go see Madam Pomfrey to get my mouth open again." Then Dewey muttered, "she didn't have to spend an hour trying to figure out what I was trying to say."

_If it were me, I would have told him to come back when he could be more coherent._

* * *

"You're back?" Euan asked as Anthony sat down.

"What can I say? I'm spending more time here lately than at my own school."

Jenny snorted. "If you stay the night you can go to class with us tomorrow. We have history."

Matt chimed in with his impersonation of Professor Binns. "Yes, I know you. You're one of the Perkins boys."

"I'll try. Let's see how the night goes." Anthony looked over at the Slytherin table. "Reese is happy for the moment. Millicent is talking to him." He turned back. "Why does she like Reese, anyway?"

"They think alike," Jenny answered. "In a battle of wits, you're looking at two unarmed combatants."

"And I'm his friend. What does that make me."

"Mental." Jenny paused. "Are you really?"

Anthony nodded. "I like the way he thinks." He talked over the laughter. "Really. Why, this very afternoon he said to me, 'I think I'll go over to Hogwarts. Do you want to join me."

"A toast," Euan suggested as he lifted his glass of pumpkin juice. "To the way Reese thinks. May he think that way often."

Anthony drank the toast and looked over to see how Reese was doing. He tried to hide his concerns when he saw Draco walk up to Reese and said something. Anthony was smiling when he turned back to his friends.

Draco, on the other hand was not smiling. He excused himself and walked over to Reese and put his hand on his cousin's shoulder. "Thank you for coming."

Reese, without any sarcasm, answered, "We're family."

Draco gave him a polite smile and went back to his seat. He would find out soon enough if tonight was the night. Just in case, all the pieces were now at hand. In the midst of all of this, Draco had a stray thought. 'When did I start caring about family?'.

* * *

"There you go," Millicent said as she finished tying Reese's tie. "Now you look like a real Slytherin. She gave him a kiss, then led him out of Draco's dorm room into the Slytherin common room.

"What do you think, Draco?" Reese asked.

Draco looked aghast. "You were just supposed to put on a robe, not raid my wardrobe. Are those my patent dragon leather shoes?"

"You had three pair," Millicent pointed out. "And you did want to see what Reese would look like."

"He asked about trying on a robe so Filch would find him harder to spot. Do you know how much those shoes cost?" Draco stared at Reese. "That's my favorite satin shirt!"

"And it fits perfectly," Reese told him. "It's a good thing we're the same size. Everything fits." He looked at Millicent and smiled. "Even the pants. That was Milly's idea."

"Please. Please tell me you meant trousers. By the gods, Reese, how could you?"

Millicent looked miffed. "I turned my back. There was nothing indecent about it."

Draco snarled. "Like you wouldn't think of doing anything indecent."

"Not in your room. Isn't that right, Reesey-poo."

"Yes it is, love munchkin."

"I'm going to be sick," Draco looked at the others in the common room. "Would all of you please stop laughing." Draco paused for a minute and felt for something in his pocket. He pulled out a coin and looked at it. He turned to Theodore Nott and looked at him. Nott nodded and walked away to the dorm rooms, unnoticed. Draco turned back to Reese. "We'll do this the easy way. Consider those clothes as a gift. ALL OF THEM. Now, if you will excuse me, I'm supposed to see Professor Snape."

"I'll join you," Reese said cheerfully. He gave Millicent a kiss. "I'll be back."

Millicent kissed him in return. "You look so nice. Maybe Snape'll let you stay."

Reese waved goodbye and followed Draco outside. "That was close."

"Don't worry. You didn't give anything away."

"I want you to know I did try. But Milly doesn't believe in that sort of thing. Not until after marriage."

Draco looked at Reese. "What are you talking about?"

"Uh . . . Nothing."

As they started climbing the stairs, Reese had to ask. "What happened to Dewey? We told him we were going to do this together?"

"He went to get Malcolm," Draco said, giving Reese a knowing grin. "I decided to use the revised plan. Those two will wait outside. Too many students around might make our guests nervous."

"Yeah, right," Reese said nervously.

* * *

Malcolm looked at the note that Romilda Vane gave him. It was from Draco. It was happening. Dewey was going to Snape and would meet them later. They would meet Malcolm near the DADA classroom and go up to the Room of Requirement from there.

"Thanks, Romilda."

"Just don't expect me to do this all the time."

_That's why Romilda is everyone's heartthrob. Word has it even Ron Weasley had a crush on her. Until the love potion wore off._

Malcolm ran back to his dorm and grabbed a few things he might need. As a last minute thought, he grabbed his hat and put it on. He even brushed his hair over his forehead the way Hermione had done. Saying only a quick goodbye to Anthony as they passed, he left Gryffindor House and headed out to meet Draco.

* * *

Theodore Nott waited for his prey to come. He smiled from his alcove when he saw Malcolm heading down the hallway. He waited. Malcolm was only ten feet away. Nott stepped out of the alcove. His wand was drawn.

"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS."

Malcolm froze into position.

Nott laughed as he walked up to the Gryffindor. "I was sent to inform you. There was a change of plans. Whatever it is, Draco is going through with it anyway."

"I guessed," Malcolm said suddenly, and hit Nott in the jaw before the Slytherin could react.

_I have to tell George. That hat worked like a charm._

"Wha - " Nott said before Malcolm hit him again. Malcolm hit him a third time. knocking him to the ground. Nott groaned, then opened his eyes. Malcolm was kneeling on his chest, wand in his face.

"It's your choice. Tell me where Dewey is or find out how good I am at the Cruciatus Curse."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me, you bastard. We're talking about my brother."

For emphasis, Malcolm lifted his knee up a little bit, then brought it down hard on Nott's chest.

"I asked you a question."

Nott laughed. "I'll take my chances. In the long run, I know I'll have my revenge."

"I'll ask you again in one minute. CRUCIO."

"EXPELIARMUS," Dewey yelled from down the hallway. Malcolm's wand went flying.

"DEWEY."

"Get out of the way, Malcolm. He's mine."

Malcolm grabbed Nott's wand as he stood up. "Go at him."

Dewey smiled. "Petrificus Totalus." He walked up to Nott and cast another spell.

"An air bubble?" Malcolm asked. "Why an air bubble? Dewey? The lake?"

"Yeah. The Giant Squid will keep an eye on him. Mobiluscorpus. Help me get his body up to the window."

Malcolm went into the DADA classroom and opened the windows while Dewey floated Nott's body to the ledge.

"Malcolm, do you know a good propulsion charm."

"I don't have my wand."

"Here. I wasn't sure I could trust you with it. Not with that spell you were about to cast. Nice hat, by the way."

"Thanks." Malcolm took his wand. "Whenever you're ready, Dewey."

Dewey whispered into Nott's ear. "I know you can hear me. And I know you're going to hate me for this. But here's the deal. Try anything, and we'll both find out how good my brother is at the unforgivable curses." His mouth still next to Nott's ear, he shouted, "GO FOR IT, MALCOLM."

They both watched appreciatively as Nott's body shot out across the school grounds. As it sailed across the lake, a huge tentacle reached up and grabbed it. Tentacle and body both disappeared into the water.

"That's taken care of," Malcolm said happily. "Do you know what's going on?"

"Nott caught me by surprise. He warned everyone in my dorm not to do anything, or else. As soon as they left, my roommates started arguing. It felt good."

"What were they arguing about?"

"Who gets to release me. Morgan had already flicked a messenger bug onto Nott's robe so we could follow him. And by now Avery's warning the Aurors.

"Avery? But his father's a Death Eater."

"Malcolm, all of us in the second year don't agree about pure blood. But we all agree we don't want someone like You-Know-Who in charge. We're all on the same side until all of this is over."

"Did anybody tell Snape?"

"NO. He's one of them."

"How do you know?"

"Ron told me everything that Potter told him. I decided to believe Ron."

"And Avery. He's in your house. Can we really trust him?"

Dewey looked at his brother. "Does it matter? Help won't get here fast enough, anyway. Draco must have already started bringing them in."

"Tonks is in Hogsmeade. I'll find her. Find Draco. Get Nob and get him out of the school."

"Oh, goody. I get the easy part."

"Then you get to Hogsmeade. Dewey, you do have the easy part. You have to avoid all the trouble. I'm going to check things out first. If they have a warning, they'll need to know where to go."

"Malcolm."

"What now?"

"Be careful. There are probably other people in Hogsmeade, too."

"Thanks for telling me. Now I'm Paranoid."

_Right now, paranoid is the best thing to be._

Malcolm flew out the window and Dewey ran out the door and to the nearest staircase. He reached the Room of Requirement just as the Death Eaters were beginning to walk out. They stopped when they saw Dewey. Dewey was smiling.

"The coast is still clear but I don't know for how long. Malcolm's flying around outside. He's supposed to let you know if he sees anything."

"Another cousin of Malfoy?" A gruesome looking man said. "Why did he ever need to bring us in." The man looked at Dewey with his yellow eyes. "You've got good blood in you." The man leered. "But from now on, stay out of our way. Understood."

"Yes, Sir," Dewey said carefully. "I'm just glad I could do my part."

Given the chance, he rushed past them to find Reese and, hopefully, Nob.

* * *

Reese watched with nervous fascination as the first man stepped out of the cabinet. The man smiled at him in an intimidating manner.

"And who are you."

"I'm Draco's cousin. I'm supposed to take Nob back to Aunt Narcissa's."

"To . . ." the man said in surprise. "Malfoy was telling the truth?" A woman stepped out of the cabinet. "Alecto, this boy is here for the hostage. To take him back from where we picked him up."

The woman laughed. "Malfoy was true to his word? I'm amazed."

The man and woman stepped aside as the cabinet opened a third time.

"REESE," Nob said and jumped into his brother's arms. Both, later, would be secretly glad that no one else in the family noticed the tearful reunion. Nor would either ever admit that it ever happened. Even to each other.

"Was it bad, Nob?"

"Only this last part," Nob whispered. "The reason is coming next."

Both boys watched as a gruesome looking man came out of the cabinet. He grinned at Reese. It was not a comforting grin. As more people came out, the man continued to watch them.

Once everyone was through, they began to walk out, paused to talk to someone, then continued on their way.

Dewey walked in a minute later and came over to the cabinet. "Any problems?"

"Outside of those goons?" Reese said. "Some old drunk came in, earlier. I had to push her out of here. I did make some whooping noises while I did it. Just to scare her."

Dewey turned to his younger brother. "Nob, any problems."

"Outside of those goons? No."

"Then let's get out of here."

"Where's Malcolm?"

"He went to get the cavalry. And we need to get out of the fort."

The three brothers ran out of the Room of Requirement. It was pitch black.

"What is that?" Nob asked fearfully.

"Peruvian Darkness Powder," Dewey answered. "We gave some to Draco."

They heard noises. It sounded like a fight was starting.

"What's going on?" Nob asked this time.

"Who cares," Reese said. He grabbed Nob and the three made their way in the opposite direction of the noise. When they could finally see again, they started running.

By the time they reached the first floor, they had to pause for breath. Then they made their way down the last flight of stairs and out the doors to the outside. And stopped again.

"Avery?"

The second year Slytherin smiled at his dorm mate. "I didn't give them much of a warning. It was only Filch and an auror and a couple of people from the town talking about a wedding that's coming up. Filch said that the people I wanted to warn were already up here. When you get clear, look at the astronomy tower."

"Where are you going?"

"Slytherin. And I'm hoping I don't have to take sides."

Dewey held out his hand. "Wherever you stand, I'll stand with you. We're in this together."

Avery took his hand in gratitude. "I'll still hope."

Avery ran inside, and Dewey led the way toward the school entrance. Once they were far enough away, he looked back. The Dark Mark was hanging over the astronomy tower.

"I know that sign," Reese said. "We have to go back."

"Reese? Why would we do that. They're well trained wizards with no moral values. And you can't even use a wand as a stick. What we have to do is get out of here."

"NO. YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. IT ISN'T ABOUT DOING ANYTHING. IT'S ABOUT FAMILY."

"Do you mean Draco?" Dewey's question dripped with sarcasm. "My dear cousin who had his friend freeze me in place, and then had the same jerk attack Malcolm? "

"I mean Draco who made sure I was there to get Nob. Your dear cousin who made sure you and Malcolm were out of the way so you wouldn't get hurt, regardless of what happened." Reese's voice became small. "Besides. All that was my idea."

"YOU?" Dewey asked.

"This is getting to be a very interesting discussion." Nob said with mock cheerfulness. "I'm glad I came."

"Why don't you get out of the road?" a new voice suggested. "And keep your voices down."

"Anthony?" Dewey asked.

"Anthony," Reese said happily. "This is my brother Nob. Nob, this is my best friend, Anthony."

"Reese has friends?" Nob asked.

"I didn't believe it either," Anthony said cheerfully. His eyes flicked to the tower. Everyone else turned as well. There was a green glow that surrounded a man on the edge of the tower. The glow hung on him as he fell over the side to the far ground below.

"What . .. was . . . that?" Anthony asked.

"I read about it," Nob murmured.

"The killing curse," Dewey said forcefully. "Murder."

"Who?" It was Reese who asked.

Anthony's voice reflected everyone's renewed fear. "There's some bushes over here. That's where I hid the rope."

"Rope?" Dewey asked. "Reese, what's going on?"

"I'll explain in the bushes."

* * *

Charles Rowland and Edwin Paine literally ran through the walls to get out of the castle. It had become a battlefield. And despite being dead, neither boy cared to watch others die. They stopped to rest at the foot of a tall tower.

"What happened in there, Edwin?"

"You're asking me? I think they're fighting."

Charles glared at his friend for making such an innocuous comment. "I would have never guessed."

"Perhaps if we payed more attention to the people instead of the other ghosts."

"I payed attention," Charles said wistfully.

"To Ginny? Or to Hermione? As they dallied with their boyfriends."

Both boys jumped as a body fell to the ground near them.

"Edwin, it's the headmaster."

Both boys stared incredulously.

"Dear me," Albus Dumbledore said. "Did I fall all that way?"

"You were already dead by then," a young lady answered as she appeared next to him. She had flowing black hair and a gothic style of dress with a golden ankh hanging from a necklace.

"PROFESSOR," Charles called out. "YOU NEED TO RUN!"

"Run? Whatever for?"

"BECause she's . . ."

"Death? And why should I be afraid of death? If anything I should be surprised." Dumbledore turned to the figure of death. "I must admit, my dear, you are prettier than I expected."

"Thank you, Albus," Death said with a light laugh. "But you were always a flatterer." She pointed to Charles. "And this young man and I have some unfinished business."

"I'm not going," Charles said, fear in his voice.

"How curious. That would explain how the muggle child became a ghost." Albus said, then cast a curious glance at Death.

"You know how children are. And I had my hands full at the time. But I promised to come back for him. Charles, I'll be taking you next."

"Noooo." Terror filled the boy's voice.

"Charles, death is nothing to be afraid of," Albus told the boy. "When it is time, it must be grasped with both hands and held tightly, just as we should have done in our lives. Death is only the chance to travel to another plane. And only those who fear to live should be afraid of dying."

"But I don't know what will happen. And I don't want to leave Edwin. He's my friend."

Albus smiled. "Friendship is a good enough reason in my book. For me, I've lived my life. I hope that my death will make those I leave behind stronger than before. As it is, I must travel a new path."

"You were always eloquent, Albus." Death said as she put her hand on his shoulder.

Albus nodded. "You must truly love life to wear such a bright smile."

The two embraced. Dumbledore's spirit seemed to shrink and to fade until Death's arms were empty. Then she threw her hands in the air, as though casting something skyward. As Charles and Edwin listened, the sound of wings could be heard.

"Friendship?" Death asked as she turned to Charles. "I am supposed to take you once I catch up to you."

"But what about Edwin."

"I'll be fine," Edwin lied. "I'll muck about here with the other ghosts. Learn how to haunt things."

Death folded her arms. "I'm not supposed to let you go."

"But?" Edwin asked gleefully, then added with embarrassment, "Sorry. I thought you were going to say something else."

"No, but I don't appreciate being lied to, Master Paine." Death shrugged her shoulders. "Fine, Charles. You can stay until you're ready to go."

"Thanks. Loads. Really," Charles said with gusto.

"But." Death looked at Edwin and smiled. "The two of you have to do me a favor. Is it a deal?"

Charles and Edwin looked at each other and nodded. "It's a deal," they both said.

"Good. Now take my hands. We're going someplace else."


	35. The End Justifies The Means

**Chapter 35: The End Justifies The Means**

Malcolm transformed into an owl and flew out the window. He circled the school to get a sense of where the Death Eaters were. Convinced they had not yet left the Room of Requirement, he headed straight for Hogsmeade. All he could think of was that everything had gone horribly wrong.

That was when he noticed the others. It was Tonks he saw. Malcolm flew closer to that particular window when his friend chanced to look out. She cast a spell and the window opened. Malcolm landed on the ledge.

"You're out late tonight. Do you have a date?"

Malcolm hooted in annoyance, then jumped to the floor and transformed. "You've got to promise not to tell anyone you saw me."

"We promise," Remus Lupin said from off to one side, humor obvious in his voice. "And why did we not see you? Outside of the fact that you were never here."

"Draco's letting Death Eaters into the school. They're going to be coming from the Room of Requirement."

"When?" The humor was gone.

"I think they might already be here."

"Malcolm." It was Bill Weasley. "How do you know this?"

_Let's see. The long version will take until next week. I'll give them the short version._

"We're family. They kidnaped Nob. Draco had to go through with this or else."

"So he's letting in the Death Eaters?"

"And I'm giving the warning." Malcolm said angrily. "If it works, Nob is safe, and you get to capture a few more of them. And if it doesn't work, Nob is still safe."

Tonks put her hand on Malcolm's shoulder. "And if Nob isn't safe?"

"DON"T SAY THAT."

"You've warned us," Bill said hastily. "We need you to fly into Hogsmeade and warn the others."

"Avery's already doing that."

Everyone listening was surprised. "But Avery's father . . ." Tonks started to say.

"Avery is Dewey's friend. He's trying to help . . . Dewey's family. And it doesn't hurt his by doing this."

Bill nodded. "And nobody knows about that either. "Fly, Malcolm. Two messengers are better than one, in case they don't believe the first one."

Malcolm nodded and transformed as he jumped out the window. In seconds he was on his way to Hogwart's entrance. He was nearing the gate when he heard the shouts, but couldn't make anything of them. He circled lower and saw that every person near the entrance was looking back at the castle. When he turned to see the castle, Malcolm spotted it. The Dark Mark, rising above the astronomy tower. He perched on the gate itself to stare. What happened next he heard. Two brooms went past him, high overhead.

_Dumbledore? I can see him. But the other? Must be hidden by an invisibility spell or something. That's what I like. More things that I don't understand._

It was Filch who got his attention. His motions were obvious. An owl flying high in the dark night would be invisible. And could see and hear everything.

The greatest amount of time was spent getting high enough. Malcolm did notice at one point that Avery was almost to the school. Once he was finally high enough, Malcolm could glide over the tower and look down. It wasn't pretty. He passed overhead to see Draco and Dumbledore. Other people were coming out onto the parapet. Then he was past the tower and had to circle around again. It was when he had half completed his turn, he saw it. Dumbledore, at the battlements, the green glow of the killing spell engulfing him. As he watched, Dumbledore was blasted off the tower and was falling to the ground below. No longer thinking, Malcolm went into a dive. He felt a great need to get to the old man, that if he got there fast enough he could do something.

White.

Everything went white.

_NO. NOT NOW. WHY? WHY?_

The glow faded but not completely. Malcolm found himself in human form, standing in front of a grave. The same grave he stood before, the last time this had happened. And the glow was in front of him, gradually fading and taking form.

"Basil?"

"Hello, Malcolm. It's time for you to remember. It's time to remember everything."

Malcolm took a deep breath. He did remember. He remembered it was Basil in the dream, the one he could not remember. And he remembered being in class that day, confronting Umbridge. He remembered Umbridge erasing his memory. And he remembered one other thing. He remembered being in an alternate world AND reading the books about Harry Potter. He remembered how the last book ended.

"Why? What good is it, remembering all of this now?"

"Why ask why? Everything that happened tonight happened. Despite that book, it was not foretold."

Harry could see Basil clearly now.

"But I could have saved him. I could have warned him."

"He already knew. He knew that what happened could have happened. He prepared and took his chances. He accepted his fate." Basil waved his hand. "I could do nothing about that Malcolm. And I did not return your memories now to hurt you. I did it because I was now able to."

Malcolm could now bear to look at Basil without squinting.

"Why . . . How . . . are you here?"

"I came to an agreement. Or as you would say, I made a deal."

"I'm not going to like this. Am I? Why are you interfering with my life?"

"It should be obvious. When I was alive, only one person truly loved me. I want to save him."

'Draco? Is he in danger?"

Basil gave Malcolm a look of playful scorn. "Of course, he's in danger. He may very well die tonight. But that is beside the point. Did you know, Malcolm, that Draco had a prepared spell? If he were to die, he would remain here as a ghost."

"That sounds like Draco."

Basil gave a sincere smile and grabbed Malcolm's hand with affection. "He cancelled that spell tonight, before he went to face his danger. And it was because of you."

"Wait a minute. You did all that stuff to me just to get Draco to cancel a spell."

"Ask any ghost, Malcolm. Ask them if they are happy. Not one will tell you yes. Ghosts are not happy people. In life, they always feared. And in the end, they chose to stay on in this world as spirits rather that discover what awaited them beyond the veil. Had I not intervened, Draco would have done the same."

"And to do this you gave me bad dreams and moved me through time and space. Did you send me to that movie studio, too."

"No. That was Nott's doing. Although he has no idea what he did, only what he intended. That was why I moved you three times and gave you the seven dreams, and one other thing. One, three and seven. They are the numbers of great magic."

Malcolm tried to understand everything that he was told. "And that One was?"

"Nob. I gave him the understanding of what he could do, before he could understand what it was he was doing."

"Could you be a little less cryptic."

Basil, no longer glowing, smiled. "Nob is a changeling. You know that. And he can keep changing until he specifically chooses a form. I put into his head the idea of choosing a form. Yours. You made him fall in love with your family. It was not that difficult to do. But it had its affect. Draco noticed how you and your brothers treat each other, both the good and bad."

Malcolm frowned. "You tricked Nob into becoming a miniature me?"

"I gave him the means to get what he most wanted. A family which would love him. In time, he would have figured it all out. He may have become human, anyway. But he would not have had a family."

_It's weird. I don't really follow that, but I think I understand, anyway._

"Okay, you let Nob know how to become human. That let Draco know what it was like in a real family. And what about moving me around."

"Had Umbridge found you in the classroom, and found you out, you would have faced a terrible punishment when you were unprepared. Draco would have had a realistic replacement for me. Had you attacked Harry Potter, you would have lost. The prophecy is too strong in him . . ."

_Prophecy? Oh, yeah. The Phophecy._

". . . and had you flown to Dumbledore's side, you would have been seen, by those who would not be kind toward you."

"Basil? You're fading."

"It's the price I must pay. Nothing in this world is free. But I told you of the one thing I did, and of the three things I did. I must now explain the seven things I did. The dreams."

"NO. Tell me why you're fading?" Malcolm's face filled with horror. "You're becoming a ghost?"

"It is the price. And now, about the dreams." Basil's smile was filled with compassion. "They are about love. You have three dreams left. If all of them come true, you will have nothing. But if you can change even one of them, you will have your heart's desire."

"Gabrielle? I'll get her back?"

Basil nodded. "If that is what you want. As for me, my task is done. Having saved Draco from wanting a ghost's life, and having given Nob the means to a life he wanted, I give you what I gave them. The one thing all three of you needed. Hope."

Basil sat down on his grave. He was dressed in his hospital garb. He ignored everything around him except for the ghostly children's blocks, which he proceeded to move around in an intricate manner.

Malcolm's voice was weak. "Basil?" As a tear fell down his cheek, he looked upward. "Please," he whispered, "don't leave him like this."

"This is a cemetery," Charles Rowland said.

"What?" Malcolm turned to see the two young ghosts and a lady dressed in black. "What's going on?" He looked at the woman carefully. "You look familiar. But I haven't seen you before."

"You have, Malcolm. You don't want to remember. But I was just a shadow to you."

Malcolm furrowed his brow. "It was in the cemetery. He had me in his clutches."

"And I whispered in your ear to take flight. It wasn't your time."

Malcolm nodded. "You're Death."

"Albus said you were a smart one."

"When did he say that?" Edwin asked.

"When we embraced," Death answered.

Malcolm's face went ashen. "He's dead?"

Death never lost her smile, but it held sympathy now. "You knew that, Malcolm. You have to accept it. Albus did. Isn't that right, Charles."

Charles gave a wain smile. "Only those who fear to live should be afraid of death."

Malcolm nodded. "That's Dumbledore."

Charles smiled. "He told me that after he died. I tried to warn him but . . . I would swear he was laughing at me."

After an awkward minute or two of silence, Malcolm looked at Basil. "Are you the one he made the deal with?"

"I am," Death told him. "His dying freed him from his body and let him use his mind to its full extent. He made an impassioned plea. And well thought out."

"Did it have to be so involved?"

Death nodded. "He had to give everyone subtle pushes in the right direction. You, he had to shove."

_She's laughing at me._

Malcolm paused. "I'm not good at talking to incarnations."

"You've never done it before. I'm not surprised."

_She's still laughing at me._

"Does Basil . . . have to be like this?"

"It was his part of the deal. He becomes a ghost, and I take Draco when it's his time."

"But Basil. How long?"

"Forever."

"But . . . IT"S NOT FAIR."

"It's called life, Malcolm."

"NO. IT"S NOT CALLED LIFE. YOU CAN'T PUNISH HIM FOREVER."

Death still didn't lose her smile. "It isn't a punishment. He felt the need to keep a balance."

"Then . . . He . . . Didn't . . ."

"Have to? I suppose not. And you're beginning to sound like Stevie. He asked. I agreed."

Malcolm's voice had anticipation in it. "And if I ask?"

Death smiled in sheer delight. "And what do you have to offer me? Your soul?"

"I don't think my soul's worth very much. I could give you my thanks."

_I wish she would stop laughing at me._

"It's a deal."

Malcolm was stunned. "You're going to do it? For me?"

Death shook her head. "And for Albus. He asked me as well."

"He knew what was going on?"

"He was a very smart man. And, Malcolm. We made a deal. You owe me your thanks. And now for Basil."

Edwin had to ask. "You can control ghosts?"

"When I specifically make them. And I only control how they are, not what they do." Death walked over to the boy sitting on the grave. "Basil?"

The boy looked up. "I can't see the universe with my mind, anymore."

"I've made a new deal. While you are a ghost, you will only be as smart as your brother. And it your duty to learn what life is like, for him."

"How?"

Death pointed to the two other ghosts. "Basil Malfoy, Meet Charles Rowland and Edwin Paine. They'll show you what life is like."

"But we're dead."

"Life is about being, not about being something. You can learn." She held out her hand. Basil took it and she helped him to stand up. "There is one more thing, Basil. When it's Draco's time, I will call you. The two of you will cross the veil together."

Basil, in gratitude, hugged Death while he shed ghostly tears.

Death laughed. "Go on, now. All three of you. Charles, Edwin, take good care of him."

Basil started to leave, then turned to Malcolm. "I always meant to tell you. You're very annoying."

"It's my best feature," Malcolm said, and both smiled.

Death put her hand on Malcolm's shoulder as the three ghosts walked away.

"I don't think you should tell anyone about this, Malcolm. And by the way, you owe me something."

"My thanks. It's all yours."

"Another task completed," Au revoir, Malcolm."

"WAIT," Malcolm shouted as Death turned to go. "I was curious. Will I ever see you again."

Death smiled warmly at him. "It's guaranteed."

"Um. Right."

_And now she's laughing at me. Again._

Malcolm sighed, then took wing and flew off to find his brothers.

* * *

Meanwhile, back in the bushes.

"Reese, you're a stupid idiot. You actually plan to rescue Draco after he kills Dumbledore?"

"He won't," Reese insisted.

"He already did, is my guess," Dewey snarled.

"He promised."

"He promised me we'd all be part of this. Then he had Nott attack me."

"I told you. I planned that. If something went wrong, we all wouldn't be there."

"We . . ." Dewey paused. "Reese, that's actually a noble thought."

"I knew Mom would blame me. I thought it was an easy way out."

Dewey frowned at the lame excuse but Anthony's look told him that Reese was serious.

"Okay, but why do you want to rescue Draco?"

"If we don't, they'll kill him."

"That's fine by me," Nob said. "Which they? The bad ones or the good ones? Or is it whoever gets there first?"

"Shut up, Nob. You're starting to talk like Malcolm."

Dewey nodded. "That's a good enough reason for me."

Reese smiled. "Then you'll help me."

"Sure. Nob, shut up." Dewey smiled. "And why should I help you rescue Draco. After what he did, I don't care if he gets killed. I actually liked Dumbledore."

"Excuse me," Anthony interrupted. "I can give you a good reason. First, that may not have been Dumbledore. Secondly, if it was, Draco may not have been the one to kill him. And lastly, if it was, and Draco did, we've kept a notorious murderer from escaping."

Dewey fumed. "That is a good argument. But why should we go through with Reese's plan?"

Anthony smiled wryly. "Reese has something that Draco needs."

Dewey followed Anthony's gaze. He was looking at the astronomy tower. He turned to Nob. When Nob nodded his head, Dewey turned back to Reese. "Okay, we go with your plan."

"Good timing," Anthony called, pointing to the main doors. Everyone looked up. Even at this distance they knew the thin figure was Draco. With him were Professor Snape and a handful of others that the brothers recognized from the Room of Requirement. Anthony sighed. "And it looks like we're in the right spot. "Places, everyone. And let us hope luck is on our side."

* * *

Dewey's first thought was that this whole idea was stupid. There was no way they could get to Draco. His second thought was that Potter really was right. Snape was a traitor. "And I trusted him."

"What?" Nob whispered.

"I trusted Snape. I told him everything."

"He already knew," Nob told him. "SOMEONE told me that."

From the look Nob was giving him, Dewey knew he didn't have to ask who. Then they heard the shout and everyone looked up. Hagrid came storming out of his hut, wand in hand, sending hexes at the Death Eaters.

"We might have a chance after all," Anthony whispered. "And we won't need the rope."

Reese nodded and called to Nob. Nob slid over and hugged his brother. A few seconds later, he let go. Draco Malfoy was looking back at him and smiling.

"Dewey."

"Reese?"

"Keep your wand ready. We made need a few quick curses."

From the road near Hagrid's hut, a familiar voice was heard to shout, "STUPIFY."

Dewey's head snapped up and he peered through the bushes. "That's Potter. He's fighting Snape."

"Run, Draco," Snape called back as he turned to fight the new foe.

Everyone stared in surprise. Draco continued to run for about twenty feet, then stopped in the middle of the road to look back. He was no more then ten feet from where they were hiding.

"Nob, get ready," Reese called as he jumped out of the bushes and ran toward Draco. This time it was Draco's turn to be surprise when he heard noise, and was surprised again to see himself. Reese ran up, grabbed Draco's wand out of his pocket. Behind them, Snape and Potter were still fighting.

"Nob's hiding over there. Run."

Reese/Draco began to panic. Draco was looking at him with total incomprehension. And time was quickly running out. Both turned when they saw movement from the other side of the road. It was a tawny owl flying at full speed four feet off the ground.

Malcolm transformed back into human form and tackled Draco squarely. Both went flying off the road and into the bushes. Reese put the wand in his pocket, and turned to face the fighting as he heard Snape yelling, "Potter belongs to the Dark Lord. Leave Him. GO. GO."

Reese didn't wait to see what happened. He was already running toward the gates. And Draco was recovering from being hit.

"YOU IDImphfm"

"Shut up, Draco," Malcolm said as he forced his hand over the other's mouth. "One more word and we're all dead."

Dewey was there, his wand out. "I want to know. Did you . . ."

"Later," Malcolm said sternly. "Nob, take care of Draco. Dewey, get them to the safe place." He looked at Hagrid's hut. "I've got some work to do."

Nob was giving Draco a hug when Malcolm took flight as an owl. Unseen because of all the excitement he managed to make his way behind Hagrid's Hut. He transformed again to stand by the corral. "Do you remember the Muffin Man?"

The Hippogryff looked at Malcolm with annoyance. Malcolm bowed politely and waited. The hippogryph bowed back.

"Okay, here's the deal. The bad guys are attacking and the good guys need all the help they can get."

The hippogryph simply stared at Malcolm.

"Fine. I'm sorry that I didn't bring you any muffins. I . . ."

_Malcolm, you're arguing with an animal. Think like an animal. What's his motivation._

"BUCKBEAK. BAD MEN. HURTING HAGRID!"

SQWAUK.

"THE OTHER SIDE OF THE HUT."

Buckbeak screamed and jumped into the air and flew to the rescue.

_Stupid bird. You'd think the fact that the hut was on fire might have given him a clue. On the other hand, he may have thought Hagrid was cooking something._

Malcolm took a deep breath and transformed once again. He had to find one more person.

* * *

"A tree?" Anthony asked.

"Dewey?" Draco, as Malcolm, asked. "You do know that this is the Whomping Willow?"

"She's a friend. Don't worry."

"Whomping?" Nob asked.

"It's a nickname," Dewey explained. "If someone she doesn't like gets too close . . ."

"She whomps 'em." Nob said with a laugh.

"And this is where you two hide," Dewey explained. "Until we can sneak you out of here."

"Far out," Nob said.

"Nob? Have you been hanging out with Johnny?"

Nob smiled in fascination as willow branches twirled around him and lifted him up. They started to do the same to Draco but Draco said," Wait a minute. Dewey, do you mean . . . Oh no." Draco was shaking his head no while Dewey was nodding yes. "By the gods, Nob's mother is a tree."

"Isn't it fun being Malcolm? If you were still Draco you would never have even thought of it." Dewey waved as Draco was lifted off the ground. "Don't tell Nob. He needs to find out on his own."

"Fine. And, Dewey," Draco said wryly. "I should tell you. I can fly out of here. As Malcolm I can become an owl."

"That's cool," Dewey said as he turned to go. "Let us know where you end up."

"Great," Draco muttered to himself. "Thanks to Malcolm my relatives include a half-breed giant and a demented conifer." As he was raised up, Draco noticed Nob. The boy was in a cradle of branches, sleeping soundly. It was no surprise. After all he had been through, the boy must have been exhausted. Draco was sat into the crook of the tree when he had a better idea. After all, Malcolm did it quite a bit. He transformed and flew to a secluded spot near the top. He perched there and stuck his head under his wing.

_This is actually quite comfortable. I could get used to this._


	36. Repurcussions

A/N: Anyone who has looked at the Chapter List in Chapter One knows that tomorrow is the last chapter. I thought I would mention that there will be an extra chapter. It's unrelated to this story except that it deals with changing reality, with going to an AU. It was also too short for me to want to post. Consider it a reward (or a punishment) for your continued reading.

**Chapter 36: Repercussions**

Draco woke up to the sound of an owl hooting. An identical owl. He followed Malcolm to the ground and both transformed.

"Malcolm, what time is it?"

"Almost dawn. I have a letter for you to deliver."

"And I assume I'm supposed to wait for a reply. Where do you intend to hide me?"

Malcolm held out a letter. It was addressed to Gabrielle Delacour.

"Your name is Janus. You're a gift, because you look so much like me."

"I thought she deserted you and wanted to have nothing more to do with you."

"Yeah. That's why it's perfect. No one will expect it."

"You went to see her?"

Malcolm nodded.

_For all the good it did. She changed. She's not the Gabrielle I used to know._

"I had to trust someone, Draco. Gabrielle knows everything, and so do her parents. I did a lot of explaining and a fair amount of lying, and they've agreed to hide you, but you have to remain an owl."

"All summer? Or all year?"

"Hey, Peter Pettigrew spent twelve years as Ron Weasley's rat. At most, you're looking at one measly year."

"Weasley's rat was really Pettigrew?"

"Yeah. And you get to be an owl. Even now, I still think Gabrielle's a lot prettier than Ron."

"Maybe I should find my own place to hide."

Malcolm smiled. "Write me when you get there. I just thought they would be the most convenient. Gabrielle's sister is engaged to Ginny's brother. You're guaranteed to hear all the gossip. And if something happens, no one will be surprised that she called me or asked me or my brothers to visit."

Draco huffed. Then he took the letter. "I'll do it, Malcolm. Is there anything I should know before I leave?"

_Yeah. Voles taste just like chicken._

"Gabrielle will take good care of you. And don't worry about the rest of us."

Draco nodded. He started to transform but changed back almost at once. "I need to know. Why did Reese do it?"

"They would have killed you when they found out you didn't have the Dark Mark."

"The . . ." Draco was stunned. "In all this time, I never thought it was true. I thought Reese was bragging."

"You better get going. It's almost dawn."

Draco nodded, transformed, and flew off, the letter clutched in his claw. Malcolm heaved a sigh of relief.

_One down. One to go._

"Malcolm." It was Anthony. "I brought transportation for Nob."

Malcolm turned around and saw the Glen Levitt boy smiling at him. He also saw Dennis Creevey staring at the tree he was standing under. Dennis' voice was shaky when he spoke.

"Malcolm, the Whomping Willow isn't doing anything."

"Yeah. We're friends. Dennis, why are you here?"

"Anthony said you needed me to carry Nob somewhere."

Malcolm almost laughed. "Why would he ask you that? Anthony?"

Anthony smirked. "It's because you're an excellent teacher."

"What?"

It was Dennis who spoke.

"Malcolm, you can't tell anyone. Especially Professor McGonagall. She'll kill me, raise me from the dead so she can expel me, then kill me twice more. And then she'll get really angry."

"Dennis? Do you mean to say you're . . ."

"An unregistered animagus."

_Talk about mixing your emotions._

"Unregistered?"

"It was McGonagall's idea. She even taught me an invisibility spell, so people wouldn't notice me." Dennis gave a half smile. "It took ten weeks of detentions before I got that down. That's the only reason Reese and Anthony saw me. I hadn't perfected it yet."

"Okay, now I'm curious. What animal?"

"This one," Dennis said, and he transformed.

Malcolm was looking down on his small friend, and then he was forced to look up.

"That is ever loving fantastic."

"Don't be surprised, Malcolm," Anthony told him. "He's in Gryffindor. It was an obvious choice. Now we need to know where to take Nob."

"Where? Oh, to Malfoy Manor. To convince the Death Eaters we're really on their side. Aunt Narcissa will send him back to my mom and dad."

"Good plan. And Reese?"

Malcolm shrugged. "Maybe they'll send him to Aunt Narcissa, too."

Dennis transformed back. "Malcolm, I don't know where Malfoy Manor is."

"It's easy. Just follow the highways. Head straight east until you hit the main road and follow it south, Once you reach the border, keep an eye out for the first junction . . ."

Dennis listened to the instructions carefully and frowned. "That seems easy enough. Should I announce myself or just drop him off?"

"Drop him off, definitely. The fewer questions the better."

Dennis nodded and transformed again.

The tree began to shake its branches and a young boy, recently awakened, was being sat down on the ground.

"Morning, Nob. Did you sleep well?"

"Like a baby. I'd swear the tree rocked me to sleep. And . . ." He noticed the Gryphon. "He's beautiful."

"He's your ride back to Aunt Narcissa's. But you can't tell anyone about him. They might get the wrong ideas."

Nob smirked. "I know that. But do you mean it? I'm actually going to ride him?"

"Yeah, and hold on tight. He's young, and he hasn't carried too many people before."

The Gryphon lowered itself so that Nob could climb on it's back. It looked to make sure the boy was holding on tightly to its feathers, then began to run. After only a few feet, Dennis and Nob disappeared under an invisibility spell.

"I was hoping to see him take off."

"Someday," Anthony said cheerfully. "Best is to ride him. That's the real thrill." He looked to the east. "The sun's coming up and I'm exhausted. How about breakfast."

"Sounds great." As they walked back, Malcolm added. "It's funny. I don't think I should be happy, but I can't help it."

"I know. After last night, with Dumbledore, with everything else. But we're done. We can't do anymore and we can finally rest. I can't help but be happy about that. And follow me," Anthony added. "I want to show you something. They were here earlier."

They detoured to the greenhouses, and went into the second one. Two ghosts were arguing.

"It's a simple matter to change your clothes. Just imagine something else you've worn."

"But I've told you, Charles. I spent all of my life in a hospital. This is what I always wore. If I wasn't wearing these I was taking a bath. I don't have anything else to imagine."

All three ghosts looked up when the door opened. "Malcolm," Edwin said happily, "You're supposed to be brilliant. Basil needs to dress differently but he can't picture himself in any other clothes."

"He never wore any other clothes."

"And he can't imagine wearing anything else."

"Try this. Basil, do you remember how Draco dressed whenever he came to see you? Imagine yourself dressed like that. It might work."

"Ah, his brother," Edwin said, smiling. "We should have thought of that." He turned back to the other ghosts. "Charles? Are you going to ask Basil to try?"

Malcolm smiled and motioned Anthony that they should leave. Before they reached the entrance, Anthony stopped Malcolm and asked, "Is that ghost really Draco's brother?"

"Yeah, he's sticking around until it's Draco's time. They'll go together."

Anthony nodded appreciatively. "It's all about family with you. All of you, that is."

"Yeah, we always stick together."

_It's like we're afraid of what will happen if we're left on our own._

* * *

The Great Hall was sparsely crowded when Malcolm and Anthony entered. Those few people there were eating mechanically or engaged in low conversations. One of the few that were alone was Hagrid, looking morosely at his food. Malcolm decided he should talk to him.

_Don't worry. I'm not going to even bother trying to cheer him up._

"Hey, Hagrid. Do you remember Anthony?"

"Huh? Oh, yer Reese's friend. Malcolm, I guess you heard."

"I saw. I was scouting the tower for Tonks."

Hagrid started at the idea that his little friend had witnessed such a tragedy. He asked with concern, "How are ye? If ye need to talk about it . . ."

"I'm fine, kinda. I guess it's the shock, 'cause I feel giddy, like I'm about to laugh at anything."

"Tell ye what. Ye come by the hut this afternoon. I'll make you some tea and cookies."

"I'd like that."

_I'll drag Anthony along. That'll be fun to watch._

"An' Malcolm, ye should know. Draco, he couldn't do it. I'd like to think his cousin was the reason for it."

Malcolm smiled slightly. "Thanks, Hagrid. Thanks for saying that."

"I mean it. I just wish we coulda got him away from Snape."

"They," Malcolm said with emphasis, "still trust me. We might be able to."

Hagrid frowned. "Yer schemin', Malcolm. I can tell."

This time Malcolm grinned. "Yeah, Hagrid. I am. If we can get hold of Draco, we'll need to hide him, you know, with someone he trusts. Like maybe his cousin's godfather?"

Hagrid couldn't help but smile. "I'd like some company fer a bit. Someone who can help out. As long as he won't be recognized."

"I'll drop by about three?"

Hagrid nodded. As they walked away from him, Anthony looked back.

"He's eating."

"Yeah. He's thinking ahead. That takes energy."

_I bet you know why I did that. It always pays to have a backup plan._

* * *

Dewey cornered his brother outside the Great Hall before dinner began. "Malcolm?"

"Plan A went off without a hitch. And Plan B is ready if we need it."

"And Reese?"

"I'll owl Mom and Dad about what happened."

"And Reese?"

"Look, Dewey. Reese is going to act the way he wants. And he's with people who think that's a good thing. He'll be fine."

"You don't have a plan for him. Do you?"

"No. I wouldn't even have known about the plan if . . . I didn't happen by."

"You're lying."

"Yeah."

Dewey frowned. "And you're not going to tell me the truth."

"Yeah, I'll tell you the truth. I can't tell you how I found out."

Dewey shrugged his shoulders. "Do you really think Reese will be fine?"

"He's disguised as Draco, and he's with people who think that he's their golden boy. He'll be fine."

_Unless they decide to hold it against him that he didn't kill Dumbledore himself. I better not tell Dewey about that._

* * *

Professor McGonagall walked up to Malcolm and Anthony while they were eating. "I would appreciate it if both of you would visit my office after dinner is over. I need to talk to you."

"May I ask, 'why me', Professor?" Anthony asked.

"Let us say it is because you are eating with Malcolm."

_That's good enough for me._

An hour later, all three were sitting around a desk.

"I will start with the obvious, Malcolm. Your brother, Reese, is missing. Your cousin, Draco is missing. Your brother, Norbert, is doing fine. And your good friend Dennis Creevey is going to spend next year in perpetual detention." McGonagall was frowning. "And there is one more thing. One other student, a Slytherin is missing. Theodore Nott."

"His dad and uncle are Death Eaters," Malcolm pointed out.

"And the two of you have a feud going on," McGonagall countered. "Do you know where he is?"

"Nott attacked Dewey. I tried to attack him in return but Dewey stopped me. It was all his idea."

_She's still glaring at me._

"Dewey put an air bubble on him. He's with the Giant Squid."

"Good. He can stay there for a while if he's in no danger."

"WHAT?" Malcolm was startled. "Excuse me, Professor. Did you say to leave him there?"

"Yes, Malcolm. I did. Last night, the enemy had, in their minds, a great victory. It won't create much trouble but a small thing such as a Death Eater's son missing from Hogwarts might give them some food for thought." McGonagall sighed. "And that was a brilliant move on your part. Having Nob returned to his Aunt's house. HE will still think of you as being on his side."

"And I promised not to say anything about Dennis," Malcolm quickly added.

"Which begs the question," the Professor said. "Where is Reese? And we will verify your answer."

Malcolm and Anthony looked at each other. Anthony raised his hand.

"I was the last one to see Reese. We were hiding together in the bushes by Hagrid's hut. He ran out the gate when Potter began fighting Snape. They were quite close enough to us. The truth is, I have no idea where he is."

McGonagall shook her head. "He's the last person I expected to flee from a fight."

"His last words were, 'It's time to go.' He was getting out of the way. I was the one who was too scared to move. In my opinion, he had a good idea."

Malcolm snorted. "I think I know where Reese is. Did you check Hogsmeade Tavern?"

McGonagall tapped her fingers on her desk. "Why do I have the feeling that both of you are lying to me?"

_Because we are?_

"I have no idea, Professor. But I do know my brother. You don't have to worry about him."

"I will be contacting your parents, anyway, Malcolm. They need to know what happened. For now, Anthony, you are free to leave my office. Regretfully I must insist that you stay on the school grounds for the time being."

Anthony gave her an honest smile. "Despite the circumstances, I will be happy to oblige."

"Malcolm. There are a few things I need to discuss with you, in private."

Anthony smiled. "I will assume they are things I would rather not know. Goodbye Professor."

McGonagall waited a few minutes after Anthony left.

"I wish you had said something to me before you went back to get your hat."

Malcolm's surprise was complete. "You knew."

"You lost your hat. And a few months later, you were wearing it again."

_And I bet she's the only person who noticed._

"It won't happen again. I promise."

"It will," McGonagall said.

"It will?"

"Sometimes we can have our cake and eat it, too. I am in a difficult position, Malcolm. Dumbledore did not keep many secrets from me, but I need to make sure."

"They're going to ask questions if I go back. I'm not supposed to remember . . ."

"Your dream? The one you don't remember?"

Malcolm nodded. "It's hard to explain, but do you remember Basil?"

"Draco's brother. Is this by any chance related to that third young ghost who appeared the night Albus died?"

"That's him. It seems he figured out what was going to happen, and he worked out a deal. Part of the deal is that I remember everything I was forced to forget."

"Everything as in . . . Everything?"

"I remember that Auror erasing my memory."

"Then you'll know how to deal with the situation. I assume you don't need to change places with anyone."

"I can even take you with me."

McGonagall smiled. "And I would love to come. But I can't leave. Thank you for the offer, Malcolm."

"I could bring someone back. Mister Abercrombie. He'd jump at the chance. You could talk about magic at your leisure, and I'll take him back when you're done."

"And what else?"

_Wow. She can read me just as good as Mom can._

"Could I invite a friend?"

"Only one?"

"Maybe two?"

"Only if Mister Abercrombie agrees."

_Dang. That means no._

* * *

"Malcolm."

Malcolm turned around to see Ginny Weasley standing there.

"I came to apologize."

"For what?"

"I told you that I would prove . . ."

"There's nothing to prove."

"But what about Harry?"

Malcolm waved her to the window. "Do you see that?"

"The boys? What are they playing?"

"Anthony calls it football. It's a muggle sport. He decided everyone needed to burn off some energy. He has all the second years he could find, both Creeveys, and anyone that passed by. He made two teams and drafted Neville Longbottom as the referee." Malcolm paused to look at Ginny. "Do you know, if Dumbledore were still alive, he could never have done that."

"That's an odd point to make."

"Maybe. But it's an obvious point. Things are different now. We're going to act differently. We already are. I wanted to warn you. Harry's going to dump you."

"Malcolm, that's not funny."

"Ginny, I'm not smiling. I just thought I'd let you know."

"Why?"

"Because I think it's what I'm supposed to do. If I don't, you'll just be too surprised to do anything."

"And what am I supposed to do?"

"What do you want to do?"

"But Harry loves me."

"Yes."

"And . . . Malcolm, how do you know this?"

Malcolm smirked. "I've been given a gift. I know everything Harry Potter is going to do until the day after the funeral."

"How long have you had this gift?"

"Since yesterday. It would have been useful if I had this gift earlier, but there you are."

"And you're trying to change the future."

"No. I already told you. I think this is what I'm supposed to do. I'm supposed to tell you these things. It's the prophecy."

"You know about the prophecy?"

"And that Snape was the one listening at the door when Sybil Trelawney told Dumbledore. I know that it was broken in the Department of Mysteries. I even know that Harry let a dangerous snake escape from the zoo when he was ten."

Ginny was gaping at Malcolm. "How do you know that? I don't even know that."

"Because Harry told Ron and Hermione about it, right after he found out he was a parselmouth."

"That happened . . ." Ginny paused, then continued with a touch of fear in her voice, ". . . before you ever knew about magic."

"Yeah. And the thing with the snake happened before Harry knew about magic."

"You're scaring me, Malcolm."

"Sorry. I just wanted you to understand why I was apologizing. I was wrong about Harry. I was so wrong about him it's not funny. There was no way he could have known or believed what Draco was doing in the bathroom that day. Ginny, he'll need you there when he realizes how badly he screwed up. He needs someone to remind him of all the things he didn't know." Malcolm sighed. "He needs you. Because if you're not there . . . the rest of us don't matter."

"Merlin's Beard," Ginny said as she understood. "Draco was ready to ask for help."

"It would have been Moaning Myrtle but it would have been enough. After Harry walked in, Draco . . . gave up. He even told me he couldn't win. So he didn't try."

"And he went through with the plan."

"He tried to. But . . . he couldn't care enough to go through with it."

"Poor Draco. What will become of him?"

"Invite Fleur's sister to visit before the wedding, and get her to owl a reply."

Ginny laughed. "You devil. How did you rescue him?"

_I can't breath. She doesn't have to hug me that hard._

"Reese . . . rescued . . . him," Malcolm said after Ginny let go. "Took . . . his . . . place."

"Excuse me," a voice said from the stairwell. It was the first year boy who started late. "I didn't mean to listen. Honestly. But I couldn't help but notice you were telling her things from the books. Are you allowed to do that? I was told not to."

_I didn't mention the books._

Ginny smiled, before Malcolm could react. "And there's one thing he won't tell me. What are the titles? It's one thing to know that something is from a book. It's another thing to know the name of the book. Don't you agree?" She walked over and put a sisterly hand on the boy's shoulder and led him to the couch. "And in case you're worried, I'm Ginny Weasley. I'm the exception to the rule. You can tell me anything."

"Really?"

Malcolm interrupted. "No, you can't. And there are no books. He's mistaken."

Ginny smiled. "Then there's no problem with mentioning any of this to McGonagall."

_Dang. That's blackmail. It's the Weasley genes._

"Ginny. You can't tell anyone. Even Harry."

"Tell me, and I won't tell."

The boy looked up at Malcolm. "Does that mean I can really talk to her? Brilliant. It's ever so hard to keep a secret when it's your whole life, don't you agree?"

Ginny smiled at the boy sitting next to her. "And what is this secret about your whole life?"

"Life in your world is much more fun."

"My world?"

"Yes, I'm from a different earth. In my world, you're all characters in books, except him," the boy pointed at Malcolm, "he's on the telly."

"Malcolm?" Ginny's voice was slightly giddy.

"Yeah, that's how I know all about Harry. I read the books."

"I only saw the movies. You're much prettier than the girl that plays you."

Ginny held her hands over her face. "I have to stop trying to know everything."

"It gets better," Malcolm told her. "The books come out one for each year. And they come out before the school year starts."

Ginny's head turned sharply to look at Malcolm. "You said you read these books."

"In the other world."

"Then you knew."

"No. A wizard made me forget I read them. He found out why I wanted a copy of book six."

No one said anything for a few minutes. Ginny was too stunned. As was the boy next to her. Malcolm didn't want to interrupt their thoughts. Finally he said, "Do you understand why he did that?"

"You might change the wrong thing."

"And I would have. The thing I needed to change to make things better was to stop Harry from going into that bathroom. I only figured that out this morning."

"If you had known, you would have had time . . ."

"No. I had this big picture of Dumbledore to overshadow everything else. I would have missed it. I would have stopped Draco instead of Harry. I WOULD have made things worse."

"That world. Can you go back there?"

"I went there by a fluke. I had a half dozen spells hit me in such a way that the right parts cancelled each other out. And I got back because all I had to do was cancel the spell."

"That means he can't go back," the boy told Ginny.

Ginny turned to Malcolm. "Then how did you get your hat back?"

"Colin told you?"

"It was Dewey. He needed help keeping you in line. Keeping him in line. He was acting like a two year old in a candy store."

"And he had to tell you?"

"Yeah. He figured I knew plenty of things not to tell about you already, so I could be trusted."

* * *

Justin nudged Frankie as they left the movie theater. "So, how realistic was that?"

"I'll have to wait for the sixth movie. But most of the characters are a little off."

"Foe example?"

"Ginny Weasley. She's a lot scarier in real life. I thought I'd have a little fun and she stopped me and threatened to tear off certain body parts and shove them down my throat if I didn't get my act together."

"Whoa, that must have been scary."

"You can laugh, Justin. You weren't there. She meant it, and she could do it."

Justin gave a final snort. "That must be why they call her a witch."

* * *

"You didn't?" Malcolm insisted.

"Just ask Hermione. She was there. But then she'd want to know why someone with perfect recall couldn't remember something like that."

"I believe you."


	37. The Farewell

A/N: Right now, I feel like Draco at the beginning of Chapter 30. "You plan and plan and then, in an instant, it's over. I spent months that I could have wasted on video games to write this story, proofread it (several times), edit it, nitpick at it and, finally, to post it. And now it's over. Now, I have to decide what to write next. I have plenty of good ideas. The problem is writing about them. For example:

Sirius Black visits a young boy named Cole Sear (The Sixth Sense) and asks him to say goodbye to Harry.

Shakespearean Harry: "Whether tis nobler in the mind to take up this wand against a sea of trouble and thus end them."

Voldemort is really a product of the Computer, an effort to destroy the wizarding world, which is unknowingly warping and manipulating the MATRIX.

Huckleberry Finn comes to Hogwarts. (Believe it or not, I've written an exploratory chapter to see if I could get this story to work.)

This one has been done by others: The League of Extraordinary Young Gentlemen. Artemis Fowl hear's his father reject an offer and decides to accept it for himself. Group would loosely include Harry, Artemis, Rudolf Sackville Bagg (Littlest Vampire), Wednesday Adams, Dashell Parr and Cody Banks for the Tom Sawyer part.

You see the problem. It's fine to have a good idea. It's easy to have a good idea. But it takes time to write a good idea until you reach a good ending, or at least an ending. For example, Draco Malfoy and the Philosopher's Stone. It's coming along nicely but the beginning is all wrong. Harry Potter is happy, because his parents are alive. (He has brown eyes, just like his mother.) But how am I going to explain how and why Lily Evans agreed to marry Lucius Malfoy. (I have an explanation, but will you believe it.) It's another story that may never be finished.

Thank you to everyone who read and who reviewed. I know it sounds trite, but I do mean it.

**Chapter 37: The Farewell**

"This is it," Malcolm said wistfully. "After tomorrow, I won't know the future anymore."

"It was a sad future, anyway. But brighter days will come."

"Yeah, well, I found out something I didn't know. My folks are coming to the funeral."

"So are mine."

"Yeah, but your parents are nice to be around."

Ginny laughed. "I'd say the same about your parents. Why don't we trade?"

"You made your point. The evil I know is better than the evil I don't know."

* * *

Miklos Abercrombie smiled as McGonagall handed him a cup of tea. "Minerva, you never told me why you're so sure I won't be recognized."

"Because of this boy," Minerva waved her wand and an image appeared.

"Who is he?"

"Euan Abercrombie. And I already met his father, Michael. While there may be some familial resemblance, I would say that the names were a coincidence."

"Then I AM a complete stranger to everyone here."

* * *

"Harry?"

Harry Potter looked up from his table in the common room. "Malcolm? Who's your friend?"

"This is Dan. He stopped by for a visit. It's kinda bad timing. Dan, this is the guy people think you are when you're wearing those glasses."

Harry looked carefully at the stranger. There was a resemblance, although no one would make that mistake if the two of them were together. He held out his hand. "I'm sorry we couldn't meet under happier circumstances."

"The odd thing is," Dan noted, "If circumstances were happier, we probably wouldn't meet at all. The funeral is the only reason I'm here. I feel the need to say goodbye, even though I never met the man."

Harry smiled appreciatively. For a friend of Malcolm's, Dan seemed overly polite. "May I ask, how is it you know Malcolm." He waved his hand at an empty chair.

Dan sat down. "I'm an actor by trade. I was working on the set and Malcolm popped in one day."

"And you became friends?"

"Of sorts. Once, I warned him his mother was coming. I think that's when we became friends. And you? Malcolm says that you don't care for him too much?"

"More his cousin than him. And Malcolm usually sides with his family."

_I like the way they talk about me like I'm not here._

Harry looked up. "Malcolm, why did you stop and talk to me?"

"I was hoping that Dan would become all gushy about meeting the Chosen One, and embarrass you."

"He's lying," Dan said. "He found out a few things about you, that he didn't know. He knows what happened to Draco was not out of any malice."

Harry nodded his head. "It was stupid of me. I honestly believe that we all would have been better off if I never followed him that day. But that's only because, now, I understand what he might have done."

"It's all in the past," Malcolm muttered.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, and held out his hand. "Can you forgive me?"

"For not knowing the future. First, I'd have to forgive myself."

Harry put his hand down. "Some things we just have to live with."

"Could I . . ." Dan began to say, when three other people walked up.

"Harry," Hermione asked. "You and Malcolm are talking again?"

Malcolm gave a grim look. "We were just telling each other the stupid things we've done. Harry went first, and since you came by, I don't have to take my turn."

"And what about me."

"You're my big sister, until Ginny wants the job back."

"Thanks," Ginny said in mock anger

"This is completely maudlin. Should I cry?" Dan asked, and received a snort from Harry in response.

"Wait until he talks to Ron."

"Harry," Ron asked from his other side. "Who's he? Not a friend of Malcolm, I hope."

Dan remembered what Malcolm had coached him to say. "Sort of. I'm here with Dewey." He did of remarkable job of not laughing when Ron heaved a sigh of relief.

"Ron Weasley," Ron said as he held out his hand, "Can we get rid of Malcolm for you?"

Dan shook hands. "My pleasure, Ron. I'm Daniel Radcliffe. And if you get rid of Malcolm, I'll be stuck here."

"You can muck about with us. We're supposed to meet Dewey later, anyway."

Dan tried to control his delight, while Harry, Hermione and Ginny rolled their eyes.

"Malcolm. Do you mind?"

Malcolm snorted. "I've got to catch up to Er. . . Dewey, anyway." He turned to Harry. "Is it a problem for you? I'm warning you. He's really a groupie."

Harry eyed Dan carefully. "It could prove interesting."

Malcolm smiled then grabbed Ginny to one side and whispered something. She glanced in surprise at Dan, then nodded. Malcolm was still smiling when he left. Dan WAS going to have an interesting time.

* * *

"Dewey?" Professor Slughorn said with a touch of confusion.

"He's in his dorm. He said I might like to wear a set of his robes since we look alike. It sounds like fun. Are you the potions Professor?"

"Horace Slughorn," he said as he took the boy's extended hand. "And you are?"

"Erik Sullivan."

"You're Irish?"

"Swedish," Erik said with a wide grin.

"Ah," Slughorn said, sincerely wishing he had never become involved in this conversation. In an effort to make it more sensible he asked, "Are you musically inclined? Your doppleganger is accomplished on the saxophone."

"I'm a keyboards man myself. I still need to grow longer fingers."

Slughorn looked at his watch. "I must be going. It was nice meeting you. I think."

Erik smiled. It was a lot of fun acting like Dewey.

"Here," Dewey said a few minutes later, as he handed Eric the robes. Eric donned them and Dewey handed him a wand. Nott's wand. "This makes it more realistic. And that's an extra wand. You can keep it as a souvenir if you want."

"Great. What do you want to do first?"

* * *

Poppy Pomfrey looked down at the twin boys in identical Slytherin robes. Her eyes kept shifting back and forth between them. "Dewey? What seems to be the problem?"

Both boys spoke in unison. "Madam Pomfrey, I was practicing my magic and had a little problem with a duplication spell."

* * *

"And where's Dewey?"

"Mom, you were supposed to be coming here tomorrow. A friend came to visit. Dewey's showing him around."

"He's not one of those other friends of your? Like Alex and Kyle? I'll call his mother immediately."

"You know about Alex and Kyle?"

Lois looked suspicious, ignoring the small crowd gathering to watch them in the Main Hall.

"That they went to Las Vegas on a weekend trip? I heard all about it. How did you know?"

Malcolm spoke as fast as he could. "Um, Stevie owled me a letter. But all he said was they ran off somewhere." After he paused for breath, he added, "They went to Las Vegas?"

"Those boys are too smart for their own good. They managed to get their own credit cards and used that internet to get plane tickets and fake ID's." Lois turned her head. "Dewey, who's your friend?"

"This is Erik. He's in my year," Dewey said as the two of them stepped up

Lois turned back to Malcolm. "They're lucky they won all that cash or they'd be in bigger trouble."

_That's pretty cool. Flying to Vegas from here. It's the perfect place for a wizard in training to get money_.

"Gee, Mom. I wouldn't even do something like that."

"You see, Lois," Hal noted. "Malcolm was a good influence on those other kids."

Lois turned to Hal. "GIVE ME A BREAK. If either of you were there, you'd have gone along with it in a heartbeat." She turned back to Malcolm. "So how's school been? Outside of the headmaster dying and your cousin Draco being part of it."

Malcolm nodded. "Other than that it's been pretty good. I go down to Uncle Hagrid's every week or so for tea. His pet spider died. He should be in if you want to visit?"

Lois agreed. "I could use some tea. And Nob's already there. Draco told me he made wonderful cookies. Why don't you ever tell me things like that?"

"You make wonderful cookies, Mom." He opened the Main Doors to go out

"You should see what Reese made," Hal said with excitement. "It was this really flaky pastry filled with walnuts and dipped in honey."

"It's Baklava."

"No, son. That's what they call a Russian banjo. But it had a name close to that."

Malcolm waited until they were away from everyone before he said anything else.

"Uh, Mom. It's about Reese."

Lois said with a laugh and a wave of her hand, "I know all about that, and I think it was nice what you did for your cousin."

"You know? But Reese . . . "

"Is home. Normally, I wouldn't leave him by himself, but I'm letting him go shopping and then fix dinner for us when we get home. That should keep him busy."

Malcolm stared at his mother. "Reese is home? "How'd Reese get there?" "When did this happen?"

Lois smiled. "It was Narcissa's idea. She convinced her boss that no one would think of looking for Draco in another country, much less with relatives like us."

"Wow," Dewey exclaimed. "I never thought being Trailer Trash could be lucky."

"We don't live in a trailer, son," Hal pointed out. "Those two weeks while we had the house fumigated don't count." He turned to Lois and whispered. "I don't believe they're still calling us that."

"Mom?" Malcolm asked. "Do you know about Draco?"

"Yup? Gabrielle Delacour owled me a letter to let me know about your visit. And Malcolm, you're a lot better off this way. Now you have a chance to meet other girls. You'll have a lot of fun."

"But not too much fun," Hal admonished, pointing an educational finger at himself and Lois.

"Yeah, sure, Dad. I would never think of doing something like that."

_I really hope he's talking about sex. If he isn't, I don't want to know what he's talking about._

"Mom, is there anything you don't know?"

"Let's see? Reese. Draco. Basil . . ."

"YOU KNOW ABOUT BASIL?"

"He and his friends met us when we got off the train. He was very curious about what your parents were like. And he was delightful to talk to. Malcolm, you should have more friends like that."

"Mom. He's dead."

"That doesn't seem to hold him back from having an active live, getting around and meeting people, discovering new interests. You could learn a few things from that young boy."

"Uh, yeah, Mom."

"Mom," Dewey interrupted to ask. "Have you been putting on weight?"

"HAH. Hal, he noticed. Either that or it took him this long to say something. Dewey, you like living in a large family, don't you."

"Yeah?"

"Good. Because it's about to get larger. I'm pregnant. See what you miss when you don't come home for Christmas."

As Hal and Lois walked off with Malcolm, Eric turned to Dewey. "That was strange. They didn't notice me."

"They're like that. They only notice me when I'm talking directly to them."

Erik nodded. "Real life IS just like television."

* * *

"Are you sure this will work," Erik said as he mounted the broom.

"Not really. But it's worth a try."

"You know I'm a muggle."

"Yeah, and it shouldn't work. But I figure if I hold on . . ."

"We could give it a try."

Both boys jumped out of the owlery window at the same time. Dewey was fully prepared to race his new friend's broom to the ground if it failed to work properly. It did fail to work properly, but not in the way either of them thought.

"At least I'm not falling," Erik said helpfully, as the broom continued to glide along in a straight line, moving to one side or the other as he moved about.

"Can you steer at all?"

"If I shift my weight."

"Nudge it so you're heading for that tree over there," Dewey suggested.

"The giant Willow?"

"Yeah."

Erik eyed Dewey. "Isn't that the Whomping Willow."

"It's okay. We're friends."

* * *

The group paused in their wandering to admire the trophy case.

"Are you really mistaken for me a lot?"

Daniel smirked as if Harry were making a joke. "That's part of the reason I wanted to meet you. On a number of occasions, people have called me by your name. But that's usually when I'm wearing glasses. To be honest, most of those people have only read about you."

Harry snorted. "That would explain it."

"I'm curious," Hermione asked. "How is it people make that mistake? Which school do you go to?"

Dan paused. "It's a muggle school. That's what makes the situation so amusing. I'm not a wizard."

Hermione started to say something but Ron whispered, "Malcolm." Hermione nodded, and smiled.

"You must have been surprised to find out that magic is real."

"You wouldn't believe. I remember seeing Malcolm turn into an owl. I almost forgot to breath."

"But you know Dewey," Ron pointed out.

"He was the one who suggested Malcolm show me. I didn't expect anything to happen." He paused. "And now I'm standing here, and talking with all of you." He paused. "Sorry, I think I sounded too cheerful, but I'm grateful for the chance to be here. And I do wish I could have met Dumbledore while he was still alive."

Harry's smile faded as he was reminded of the day's events. "I saw him die."

"I know how you must feel. I've had that experience before. Where your entire world changes in one moment. And nothing you can do can every restore what you used to take for granted."

"You're right. I suppose I did take Dumbledore for granted. I always assumed he'd be there."

"He's never gone, as long as we hold him in our hearts."

Harry nodded. Dumbledore, himself, had said something close to that.

"Those were goods words, Daniel."

"You reminded me of the man who starred in two movies that I was in. I remembered how I felt when I heard he had died. In his own field, he was also a great man."

They shook hands once more..

"Excuse me."

Dan looked own to see a familiar boy.

"I don't know if you remember me, Sir. I saw you once . . . on a movie set."

Dan tried to remain calm. "You look familiar. I see you're in Gryffindor."

"I am, Sir.

"Call me Dan."

"Can I really? Thanks. Could I bother you for an autograph? I know I'll never have a chance like this again." He held up a parchment and quill."

Dan looked at Harry and smiled. "I'll be just a moment."

"Do you know Daniel?" Hermione asked.

"I've seen most of his movies. I even had to watch one for English class."

Daniel quickly signed his name to the parchment."

Hermione was amused by Dan's reaction. "For English?"

The boy nodded. "David Copperfield?" He pocketed the parchment and ran off.

"David Copperfield?" Hermione asked.

"It's by a man called Charles Dickens." Dan smiled. "Can we talk about something other than work?"

Harry couldn't help but grin. "I know exactly how you feel."

* * *

"We're not too high?" Erik asked.

"Shouldn't be. The Giant Squid has a pretty good reach. And she has excellent aim." Dewey paused. "Do you want to know where you're going to end up?"

"Naw. Let it be a surprise."

This time, Eric took a running start before jumping out the window. It worked. The broom was going much faster, and heading straight for the lake.

* * *

Professor McGonagall looked over at the young man as she pried him away from his new friends. She assured them he was not going to disappear.

"I hope you were circumspect, young man."

"I tried to be. He was different from what I expected."

"Are you disappointed?"

"Hardly, Professor. I expected him to be more private, more withdrawn. For all that I know about him, he's a fairly open person."

McGonagall gave a half smile. "For all that boy's been through, he can't afford to hide in a shell." She eyed Dan carefully. "Do you portray him faithfully?"

"I think I do. I hope I do. It is still difficult to believe I've actually met him."

McGonagall opened a door, showing a small bedroom. "This will be your room for tonight. When you leave, turn right and take the staircases down to the main floor. You'll find the Great Hall."

"Professor. Thank you for letting me come."

"Malcolm said you were instrumental in helping him return. I thought it was the least I could do." She paused. "I need to ask. The seventh book?"

"I can't say for sure. But I think you will live the year out before the book is published."

McGonagall nodded, asked if he needed anything, then left to take care of other matters. Miklos Abercrombie was blending in very well but the other guest had already caused a number of problems.

* * *

The funeral was almost over. Dan was waiting for the centaurs to appear and shoot their arrows. It was an amazing sight, even though he knew it was going to happen. Then the funeral was over and everyone broke up into small groups. He saw Ginny standing next to him.

"I was curious. The autograph hound said I was prettier than the girl who plays me. Is that true?"

"For my own safety, I will answer yes."

"Has everything been happening according to the book?"

"So far. The funeral was described perfectly. Um, I think you should know . . ."

"That Harry's going to break up with me? I'm guessing he'll do that once he's done talking to the minister."

Dan grinned. "That's right. You read the book?"

Ginny gave him the Weasley smile. "Not at all. I just know my men." She looked over at Harry. "He's done. I'd better go see him. It was a pleasure meeting you." She refused his hand, and gave him a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. "Do a good job."

"I will," Dan promised, and Ginny walked off.

"An interesting conversation," Miklos Abercrombie said from behind. "Not that anyone else listened in."

"This is all so amazing. I'm happy I had the chance to see it."

"And any one of them would be amazed to see the way you live." Miklos looked at his watch. "It's almost time to go. We need to find Malcolm and Erik."

"There they are."

"We'll find someplace quiet, and disappear from this world."

* * *

The sun had set several hours before. The castle that was Hogwarts was dark except for only a few lights. The students had left the day before and were already at their homes. In Hogsmeade, there were few lights as well. Most people were already in bed, or in the tavern. Ripples appeared in the placid lake. There was a sudden waterspout as a young man suddenly shot out of the water as though thrown. By coincidence, or excellent aim, he landed on some soft bushes which broke his fall. He was out of breath, hungry and weak, but physically unhurt.

Theodore Nott had returned.

* * *

**COMMENTARY**

The hardest part about writing this story is that it doesn't have an end, for maybe two years. I had to leave some things hanging because I did not know if they will become useful. To give the reader an idea, I will list a few of them here. These are things I plan to use, should I be given a chance.

First, there is the case of Louis' steel wand. If the opportunity arises, he will prove how useful it can be, as well as the advantages of steel over wood.

Gabrielle will make a reappearance, with an explanation for the reader as to why she suddenly decided to break up with Malcolm. If she ever reunites with Malcolm, the resultant conversation will make Maple syrup taste like tar by comparison.

Chef Reese. Who knows? I still have to figure out what to do about Millicent. She isn't going to like this one bit and she's not afraid to cause trouble.

The Whomping Willow. I guess she'll just hang around and grow. That is what trees do, after all.

The Gryffindor Boy. It is exceedingly doubtful that his name will ever be revealed. I can't help but find it an amusing effort. Malcolm and his family have no last name. Why not a character who has no name at all? How involved can I get him and not trip over that problem?

Anthony. Yes, Reese's Sixteen-year-old friend will celebrate his eleventh birthday sometime in the next story.

Basil. He will probably make a cameo. Expect him, with his two guardians, to be at Kings Cross on September First.

The Other World. Will probably never be mentioned again. Everyone has had their curiosities satisfied and are ready to go on with their own lives. As far as Malcolm, he repaid his debts to anyone there and won't try to wear out his welcome. It may be an amazing feat, but Malcolm is a teenager and has other things to think of, for example, himself.

Timmy. I have no idea what to do with him. On the other hand, neither does Francis.

* * *

**BIBLIOGRAPHY:**

**BOOKS**

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, JK Rowling, Scholastic Books, 2005

The Pagan Mysteries of Halloween. Jean Markdale. Translated by Jon Graham. (U.S., 2001)

**TELEVISION**

Malcolm In The Middle, Fox, 1998 - 2005

Dinosaurs, ABC, 1991 - 1994

**WEB SITES**

The Harry Potter Lexicon: www. hp. Cult: MITM: www. In The Middle www. Lexicon: www. in the Middle, The Complete First Season, Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, 2002

Casablanca, Turner Entertainment, 1999

Eerie Indiana, The Complete Series, BMG Special Products, 2005

Hocus Pocus, Disney, 1993

David Copperfield, BBC Worldwide Americas, 2000

**CD**

B.B. King, Paying the Cost to be the Boss, Delta Entertainment, 1997

**GRAPHIC NOVELS**

The Sandman, Volume Four: The Season of Mist, Neil Gaiman, Vertigo, 1992

Dead Boy Detectives, Issues 1 - 4, Neil Gaiman,Vertigo, 2001

The Dead Boy Detectives, Jill Thompson, Vertigo, 2005

* * *

The two twelve-year-olds were walking down the street in the muggle neighborhood.

"Thanks, Avery. I really appreciate your coming by to visit."

"I had to. I was curious. It's almost a month already, Erik. Has anybody noticed?"

"No. I think everybody ignores me automatically. I hope Dewey's okay."


	38. Bonus Chapter: Short Story

BE CAREFUL

by HiBob

* * *

"Aye, tis a wishing stone, tha' is."

Harry laughed as Fred explained what he was holding. "And what does this wishing stone do?"

Fred was laughing at him. "No, Harry. It's Wha' do th . . ."

"I am not talking like that. Your accent even sounds fake."

"That's the point," Fred told him, holding up the small nondescript stone. "If I used a natural accent, people might not realize I was faking one."

Harry smirked at Fred's logic. It was exactly what he should have expected. "And what does this wishing stone do."

"It grants the user one wish. George used his to get a free sundae from Florian Fortescue."

"Did it work?"

"Not quite. It must have been too big a wish. But Fortescue gave him a complimentary ice cream cone as a welcome gift."

Both laughed but Fred continued. "Ginny wished for a new sweater and she found a hair ribbon in exactly that colour. Mom wished for a gourmet meal for seven. She found a recipe card for a fancy style meatloaf." Fred waited for Harry to stop laughing. "You do get the point? It grants SMALL wishes."

The grin refused to leave Harry's face. "And what did you wish for?"

Fred's smile took a conspiratorial turn. "I wanted to try something. And when I saw you walking by our shop, I knew you were the perfect one to test it on. Or should I say the chosen one."

"And what are you going to do to me?" Harry's smile betrayed his sudden nervousness. He suddenly thought that he should have gone straight to the bookstore instead. But Ron and Hermione said they'd meet him here.

"I want to test the stone. To see if I can make the wishes bigger. Now, you don't have to vocalize your wish, but you need to concentrate on what you wish for." Fred held the stone in the palm of his hand. "I'll say my wish out loud so that you understand." Fred cleared his throat. "I hope that, the next person who uses this stone, their wish comes true."

Fred became serious and handed Harry the stone. "Now, make a wish. As big a wish as you can."

Harry lost his urge to laugh when he looked at Fred's face. He looked down at the stone and thought. A big wish? As big as possible?

_I wish my parents were still alive._

"Fred," Ron suddenly called out as he and Hermione ran up. "Oh, hi Harry," he said offhandedly. He saw what Harry was holding. "Fred, you didn't use Harry Potter as your Guinea Pig."

"Not yet, Ron. Hi, Hermione. Hear any Wedding Bells yet?"

Harry smiled. Ron had told him yesterday that he had proposed to Hermione. Hermione had told him that she accepted.

Hermione grinned as she held out her hand. "Not until we graduate." She turned to Harry. "Ron proposed to me."

"I know." Harry reminded her.

"How?" Hermione asked, but her smile quickly returned as she looked past him. "Neville told you."

Harry turned around and realized that his wish had come true. That his parents were still alive. Neville Longbottom was standing in front of him with a lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead.


End file.
